


the spirit of 1998

by yournabi



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, but in the 90s, dahyun is here too, filled with plot twists, jihyo the designated single friend, oh and they're cheerleaders, surprise bitch, tzuyu doesn't appear much im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:02:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 189,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22799797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yournabi/pseuds/yournabi
Summary: Nayeon is far from a perfect mom. Chaeyoung makes a stupid wish. She wakes up in 1998. Her mother’s apparently the school bitch.(and then there's that search for her mother's great love)
Relationships: Chou Tzuyu/Son Chaeyoung, Im Nayeon/Yoo Jeongyeon
Comments: 683
Kudos: 3540





	1. birthday wishes

"This is stupid. Why are we getting in trouble for recreational activity? We weren't even wearing uniforms!"

After English class, Chaeyoung and Yerim are summoned to their teacher's desk.

Ms. Sunmi is Chaeyoung's favorite teacher–despite her embarrassing efforts to look "cool"–and it's a mutual relationship between them because Ms. Sunmi puts no subtlety in showing that Chaeyoung is her favorite student too.

The older woman sporting a new darker hair color and a shorter cut, looking extra fine for a self-proclaimed millennial, lets out a heavy sigh. She's definitely holding back her frustrations for the sake of Yerim and Chaeyoung.

"That’s the thing, girls.” She refers to the two of them but she looks at Chaeyoung’s direction a little longer. “You weren’t wearing anything."

Yerim, an entire mini-volcano of exaggerated emotions, blows up.

"Article 25 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights!" She slams her palms on the wooden desk and towers frighteningly over Ms. Sunmi’s figure. “Freedom of Expression, Miss Lee! That’s a basic!”

Ms. Sunmi throws the younger student a flat glare. "You don't have to shout, Yerim."

"It's Katie! Not Yerim."

Chaeyoung rolls her eyes at her best friend’s overdone reactions. “It wasn’t like I was naked, Miss Sunmi. And aren’t there any bigger issues to address here? Like, let’s say, the graffiti?”

To trash that stupid wall behind the high school building was a joint decision between both girls, but they had very different intentions of doing so.

Chaeyoung wanted to eradicate society's prejudice over public school students, that they are good-for-nothing kids. Yerim was in it for her best friend's abs. _God_ knows Chaeyoung likes doing her art in the least amount of clothing possible and bets have been going around about the hottest abs in school. Yerim needed some extra cash. 

Ms. Sunmi massages her temples in vexation, as if rubbing circles on them would alleviate the pounding headache from the two girls. “It's a very conservative school, Chaeyoung. That wall has graffiti all the time. Your picture was a Naver popular search. It'd be hard to take it down for a school that runs on donations."

Unlike Chaeyoung, Yerim slumps back down to the chair set up in front of Ms. Sunmi’s desk, a triumphant grin on her face, content at another trending post under her secret, stan Naver account, _rapg0dkatie_.

Chaeyoung is only frustrated even more. "Why is the school even bothering themselves with it? Don’t they have anything better to do? I honestly did the graffiti to spite the system but they get ticked off by what, _my bra_?"

Ms. Sunmi looks equally exasperated as the two girls. It's been an awfully long day and grades have to be turned to the subject heads in a week. She's not yet even done grading the exam papers.

"The Board of Discipline isn't exactly happy with both actions. That is why there will be a meeting tomorrow with your parents to discuss fitting reformation measures."

Yerim and Chaeyoung would have been elated at the mention of another disciplinary sanction---they have been trying to earn just enough to reach the school’s limit and have themselves voluntarily kicked out because if that’s what it takes to get out of the hellhole that was their school, the duo would do anything--but at the expense of having their parents involved and sat down with a bunch of middle-aged know-it-all’s was a whole different matter and definitely not part of their plan.

Yerim actually looks upset this time. Her parents may be the sweetest but everyone knows the other Mrs. Kang is the scariest, and as much as her parents both love their only child, Irene Kang will not tolerate such immature behavior.

Chaeyoung remains firm and unaffected. After all, her mother never attends school matters let alone stays at home enough to actually know what’s happening with her daughter. 

“Don’t tell Mrs. Kang anything, Miss Sunmi.” Chaeyoung pleads for the sake of her best friend who might be Satan’s spawn but is still terrified of her two moms. “This is only Yerim’s first serious warning. Repercussions are only made at the third strike.” 

Miss Sunmi raises a brow at the delinquent’s knowledge of the shabby school handbook. Her actions might say otherwise, but everyone knows Son Chaeyoung is somewhere in the top half of her class (and could be the President of the South Korea if she wanted to). 

Ms. Sunmi’s delight only lasts for a while though, because soon she stands up from her desk and pulls out an envelope from her drawer. She hands it over to Chaeyoung with a tight-lip smile that looks more pitiful than happy.

“That’s why the Board is calling for your mom, Chaeyoung.”

Chaeyoung only stares at the white envelope still in her teacher’s hold. “My mom?”

At the prospect of her mother actually sparing some time to attend the matters of her daughter’s life, Chaeyoung snorts incredulously. “You’re wasting your time, Miss Sunmi. I’ll just get my aunt Jihyo to come over and attend on my mother’s behalf.”

Park Jihyo, her godmother and the woman who spent more time and gave more attention to Chaeyoung than her own mom, has been the one attending to everything school-related in Chaeyoung’s life, or anything related to Chaeyoung in general.

“The Board is strictly requesting for your mother, Chaeyoung.” Miss Sunmi flips the envelope over and shows the name printed on the back, bold and glaring in black, **Im Nayeon.** “The Board wants to meet with her and talk.” 

Chaeyoung scoffs with a roll of her eyes. “Send it to her office then. I doubt she’ll waste any of her time with it.”

She stands up from the stupid chair and slings her bag over her shoulders, making sure the screeching of the chair can mirror at least a fraction of the exasperation she’s feeling. It’s been a tiring day and this made it more grueling.

Yerim follows shortly behind her best friend as they make their way out of the classroom, making sure to bid their teacher farewell. Miss Sunmi only looks at her two students with a concerned frown, her gaze lingering a little longer on Chaeyoung’s figure walking out.

***

Both girls are sent home early.

Chaeyoung thinks it’s for the better, knowing how well she wouldn’t be able to focus on the day’s lessons with the thoughts of her mother futilely playing the good-mom card again. For the sake of Yerim’s moms not finding out, they decide to pass time by at their favorite diner across the campus.

Deux is your typical diner with the 50s vibes and the putrid smell of smoke and sweaty truck drivers. Chaeyoung doesn’t even know why she continues to stick around despite the subpar food and the terrible coffee (a clear contrast to their motto, “Twice the taste, always better!”).

Yerim always tells her it’s because of the nostalgia, the vibe coming from the vintage decoration; the dim neon lights and the retro furnishing that just elicits a somewhat blast-from-the-past kind of feeling. Oh, and of course, also the fact that the cheerleaders from the rivalling snobby private school always hang out here after classes. 

(“I only stay because you do. And we all know you only stick around for one exact person.” Chaeyoung huffs as she places a fork of the bland scrambled eggs into her mouth. “Don’t make excuses, squirt.”

Yerim pretends she doesn’t hear anything and ignores her best friend’s accusations. Her waiting for Satan-in-Pompoms Park Sooyoung is definitely not a compliment.

Chaeyoung thinks the established love-hate relationship between her best friend and the notorious cheerleader is the result of Yerim’s ambivalence towards the equally-bitchy pretty tall girl.)

They take their seats by the last table near the window’s view of their school’s awful front. Chaeyoung focuses on deriding the school exterior in her mind while a waitress makes her way to their table with the notepad and in the awful uniform.

“Oh...look”, Yerim mutters with a soft gasp. Chaeyoung looks up from her glaring and sees a familiar-looking blonde with alabaster skin. “Isn’t that Rosie unnie?”

The girl is two years their senior and quite in the other end of the popularity spectrum in town, but Chaeyoung attends a local art club with her and despite Yerim’s constant criticisms over the art club being an organization for the aesthetic, friendless nerds, Chaeyoung manages to befriend Rosie and find out all about the girl’s quirky personality behind the quiet persona she puts up.

Most of the public high school fawned over Rosie for her natural, soft beauty and her personality. The older blonde used to be a TA for Miss Sunmi’s English class.

Chaeyoung isn’t going to lie; she had once sported a big crush on the girl, though, come to think of it now, the admiration was inevitable. Everyone had a crush on Rosie Park. 

Rosie’s fishing out for a pen from the breast pocket of her waitress uniform. She greets with a bubbly, “Hello, welcome to Deux! I am—” but when she looks up and meets the surprised gazes of the two girls, her words slip away.

“Chaeyoung?”

“Unnie?”

Yerim sits in between them. “Katie?”

Chaeyoung nudges her best friend without her eyes leaving the older girl’s. “You work here, unnie?”

It’s not a question of distaste directed towards Rosie’s brave decision to work a part-time job at the local diner where the chances of her getting seen and potentially risking her popularity status are substantial; It’s more of a question of distaste that goes more like _why here_? Because there are better places to work at and earn just as much, if not more, than in the trashy diner with all the middle-aged hormonal men fantasizing Rosie in her skimpy uniform.

“Just for fun”, Rosie answers still with her kind, bubbly tone, looks not even bothered a little unlike the two girls. “What about you? What are you two doing here in school hours?”

Yerim wriggles her way into the conversation. “She got suspended. I want a milkshake.”

Chaeyoung honestly can’t believe she’s best friends with someone as insufferable as Kang Yerim. “We’re just staying for lunch.” She frowns at the leering men over Rosie’s shoulders before turning back to the older girl. “Have you eaten lunch yet, unnie?”

“Eat with us!” Yerim chirps too giddily and starts jumping on her seat, shoving Chaeyoung to the side to make room for the popular blonde when there’s an empty two-seater leather couch in front of them.

Chaeyoung ponders whether tackling Yerim back to her seat is a good idea, but then she realizes this is just the girl’s coping mechanism to the dangers of getting found by one of her moms lounging in a dirty diner and not sitting and studying in her class. Yerim tries so hard to be a bad girl but everyone knows she’s a little baby on the inside. 

“I can’t”, Rosie pouts a little. “I’m still on my shift. Maybe later?”

Yerim is just about to say something stupid again, but Chaeyoung makes sure she’s one step ahead of her best friend. “That’ll be fine, unnie. Um, for the order, uh”, she fiddles with the laminated A4 menu on the table. “We’ll just get two milkshakes?”

“And fries! Lots of them!” 

Rosie giggles at Yerim’s overflowing vivacity as she writes their order down on her notepad. “Okay, I’ll return with your milkshakes in a few.” She flashes the two younger girls a bright smile before walking back to the kitchen.

Just as Rosie leaves, the bell attached to the entrance doors ring, and the stillness of the smelly truck in men half-filled diner is disrupted by the sound of people cackling and shouting.

Yerim and Chaeyoung recognize the noise immediately. It’s the snobby private school cheerleaders.

Yerim instantly sports her disgusted frown. “Why are they here so early?” She watches with distaste as the group of popular kids trash the remaining cleanliness of the place, recklessly moving two tables together to sit their entire group. “Don’t they get out a few hours more?”

Chaeyoung only shrugs her shoulders and focuses her attention on one familiar tall, perfectly-proportioned, brown-haired girl silently walking in, as elegantly as her entire groupie is as uncontrolled. She takes a refined sit on the leather couch beside Park Sooyoung, the recipient of Yerim’s sickened frown and unparalleled attention.

The snobby private school girls are still in their cheerleading uniforms, stripes of the hot pink adorn the black skirt and the black cropped strap “ **EAGLES** ” shell top. The skirts are shortened dramatically, falling just above the upper thigh (Chaeyoung tries _so hard_ not to look at Tzuyu’s slender and well-built legs peeking from underneath the table), and their hairs are tied up in a variety of ponytails (Tzuyu and Joy sport a classy high one, finished off with a white ribbon tied around).

Unlike a portion of the classy cheerleaders, the football jocks are like wild pigs—in behavior and appearance. Their shirts are wet with sweat and their hair look greasier than the food they’re devouring.

Before Chaeyoung can even catch her staring, Yerim immediately looks away and moves her attention towards other tall girl sticking out like a sore thumb.

“To be honest, I don’t even understand why Tzuyu sticks with them.” She snorts. “She’s _way_ too classy and kind for a bunch of wild animals.”

“Are you calling your crush a wild animal?” Chaeyoung smirks in a teasing way that earns her the middle finger from her best friend.

Yerim sighs. “I just don’t understand. Tzuyu would do better with you, Chae.”

That sparks a memory of melancholy inside Chaeyoung, as she watches Tzuyu try to not stand out in a group of Park Sooyoung-and-Chou Tzuyu followers. (It started one summer, a girl with a ridiculously big art box, and a girl whose beauty was too perfect for the world to handle, and a few kisses here and there; it was too good to be true, it ended the same summer.)

For the sake of averting the bubbling pain from the memory, Chaeyoung remains silent and unconcerned.

Their orders arrive a few minutes later, and Yerim’s fidgeting is tamed down by the delicious magical milkshake.

Rosie spends half an hour more tending to disgusting men and their leering gazes, and the table of football jocks and _their_ leering gazes, before wrapping up her shift and returning to Chaeyoung and Yerim’s table out of the ugly waitress uniform and into turquoise stirrup pants and an oversized striped sweater. 

Chaeyoung’s debating whether it’s in the nature of their friendship for her to question the older girl’s fashion taste. She decides against it for the sake of not putting Rosie off. Yerim, though, verbally expresses her distaste.

“Unnie, are you in the 90s or whatever?”

Rosie, bless her soul, is too kind to take Yerim’s obvious criticism seriously. She laughs it off as she slides into the booth, opposite the two younger girls. “I just like wearing oversized clothes. And I love the 90s.Vintage fashion, in general” 

“Figures”, Yerim scoffs, stirring her milkshake with the paper straw. “You dress like my mom in the 90s.”

Chaeyoung frowns. “Aunt Joohyun dresses like that?” She finds it impossible for the elegant business-suit-wearing lady boss to dress so...tackily. She always imagined Yerim’s mom to be one of the popular kids back in her time.

Yerim shakes her head. “I was referring to my other less-cooler mom.” She plays with her straw. “She dresses like that until now.”

“Ah…” Kang Seulgi, Yerim’s _other mom,_ is the same woman who dressed up as a floor lamp during their first grade Bring-Your-Parents-To-School party. It was endearing despite the secondhand humiliation it brought Yerim.

 _At least her mom came._ Chaeyoung attended the party with her aunt Jihyo.

“Aren’t you channeling the past a little too much, unnie?” Yerim frowns at the older girl. Rosie has her eyes focused on something in the small screen of her Nokia 6150. Yerim overhears a familiar monotone beeping and background music. “Are you playing Snake?”

Rosie nods and then yelps a little after, her snake hitting a wall and dying. She puts her Mesozoic phone down and Yerim picks it up with her thumb and index pinched together, brows furrowed disgustedly, and examines the device like it’s a bloody crime scene evidence.

Chaeyoung ignores her best friend and offers the older girl some of their fries. Rosie gladly takes a piece of the cheap snack.

“I’m going for my mom’s look in high school”, she blurts out and suddenly it explains everything.

Yerim lets out a long and understandable, “Ah…” and Chaeyoung only smiles at the adorable commemorative display. “Why though, unnie?”

Rosie shrugs. “Because it’s nice. I always wished for time-travelling powers. I want to travel back and witness what high school was like during my mom’s time.”

The prospect of the outrageous neon baggy pants, equally-colorful leg warmers, the over-sprayed ostentatious hair, and the denim-on-denim mix-up sends a cold shiver down Yerim’s spine. “No hate but I firmly believe what remains in the past should remain there.” She points out. “I don’t want to see dinosaurs roaming around with me.”

The absolute certainty and genuine worry in Yerim’s tone sends Chaeyoung and Rosie blinking at her in concern.

“I think you got the history wrong?” Rosie ponders whether to believe Yerim’s understanding or not. “I was talking about the 90s, not the Mesozoic.”

Yerim slurps her milkshake down to the brink and bobs her head to the dullness of her tone, “Blah blah blah. Meso or the 90s, same thing. My moms are old enough to be considered ancient artifacts.”

Chaeyoung begs to differ. If Yerim’s versions of ancient artifacts are her two mothers, one a dancer and choreographer and one a former beauty queen herself, then Chaeyoung’s mom is as good as the ash that brought upon life on earth.

“Whatever”, Chaeyoung sighs with a roll of her eyes, picking up another piece of the fries. “The only time I want to go back to is the time I was born. I wish to stop it.”

Rosie turns to her with a small frown on her face.

Yerim scoffs and misses out the tone of sadness in her best friend’s voice, rashly commenting, “What are you gonna do about it? Stop your parents from having sex?”

The mood drops to a record low, and Yerim only realizes how her imprudent words hit Chaeyoung hard when the dip in between the girl’s brows deepen and Rosie is only staring at her in utter shock, completely out of words.

“Oh...I-I didn’t...I didn’t mean that, Chaeyoungie…” Yerim gulps, pushes aside her milkshake to reach for the girl’s hand on the table. She’s sincerely regretful for being insensitive with her words.

No matter how sensitive she is to the topic of fathers–because hers left them and she absolutely detests the entire masculine species–Chaeyoung’s day is already bad as it is. A fight with her best friend is only going to ruin it more.

She forces herself to smile, squeezing Yerim’s hand reassuringly. “It’s okay.” A perfected chuckle escapes her lips. “Forget what I said. I’d probably just go back to the time I chose not to wear a shirt while getting pictured by you. Maybe that one.”

Rosie chuckles–albeit traces of a frown never leaving her face–and the mood lightens up a little. Yerim flexes her “hard-earned” prize money after winning the contest for the Best Abs on campus.

The girls remain trying to liven up the mood for the miserable Chaeyoung the entire duration of their stay at the diner, and although they manage to get a few smiles and laughter out of her, when the time has come and they have to go their separate ways, Chaeyoung goes back to her misery.

Yerim is the first one to leave. She still has dinner plans with her moms. Rosie and Chaeyoung walk home together. The older girl lives a few houses away from Chaeyoung’s, along the same street found in the middle-class part of the neighborhood.

The houses in this lane are mediocre in size, designed western and suburban, achieving so desperately that American Dream, Chaeyoung thinks the middle-aged Homeowners Association should quit sucking up to those western noobs’ asses. They should get her aunt Jihyo in the organization if they want to know what real success tastes like.

“Chaeyoung?”

Chaeyoung snaps out of her grumpy thoughts. She turns to older girl by her side, mindlessly strolling together with her.

Although not completely seeing her _that_ way—everyone in the entire campus knows someone owns the red Benz that always picks Rosie up every Friday, and rumors have been going around that it's a senior and definitely not from their small, trashy town—Chaeyoung genuinely appreciates Rosie’s beauty and kindness. Other than Yerim, she’s the only girl who’s bothered with talking to the “antisocial midget from senior class”.

They don’t stop walking, only slowing down in the process. Chaeyoung can see her house a few steps away.

Rosie pulls out something from the pocket of her stirrup pants and hands it over to Chaeyoung. “I forgot to give these to you earlier.”

Chaeyoung only stares down at the folded strip of glossy paper on her palm. It looks like it was ripped off an entire page in a magazine. On the small strip of paper are colorful polka-dotted hats, confetti tissue paper, and words printed in bright colors and flashy comic sans font: **FREE BIRTHDAY COUPON!**

In that split second, Chaeyoung feels out of breath. It’s like the whole world has come to a slow-down. With the fast-paced life she’s been living and no sense of identity with all the things she’s been doing, Chaeyoung completely forgot about the one day that _actually_ mattered to her.

Chaeyoung forgot about her birthday, that it's happening in less han a few hours.

Rosie carries a big smile for her. “Advance Happy Birthday, kid.”

At least one of them is smiling.

Chaeyoung feels an immense amount of emotion swell up to her chest, clawing their way up to her throat, parching, and then to her eyes. With the ridiculous amount of shit Chaeyoung has to put up with, she couldn’t even remember her own birthday.

“Unnie...I uh…” Chaeyoung stutters, out of words.

The hopeful smile on Rosie’s face completely fades away when she sees a glimpse of the light’s glimmer reflecting from the pool of tears budding on Chaeyoung’s eyes.

“Hey…” The younger girl is soon pulled into a stop and a comforting hug, one of Rosie’s specialties. “Don’t cry…” she shushes Chaeyoung with a soft pat on the head, whispering by her ear. “If you present the coupon, you get a free cake. I haven’t tasted it yet, but I don’t think it’s poisonous.”

That gets a small chuckle from the smaller girl. Chaeyoung pulls away from Rosie’s arms and smiles at the older girl. “Thank you, unnie.” She sniffs and wipes away her tears. “For everything.”

Rosie smiles back, satisfied. They continue strolling down the street and Chaeyoung’s small house comes to view in all its neglected glory. The beige bricks have small cracks and the front gate is always left open. From afar, it sticks out like a sore thumb in a street of western wannabes.

Rosie walks Chaeyoung up to the front gate. “Take your rest already, okay?”

There are two sides to Rosie; one is the bubbly side that always gets along with Chaeyoung’s antics, Yerim is almost always secondhand-embarrassed; and the other side is the special older-sister-figure one that Chaeyoung secretly adores.

That side comes out in the subtlest of ways—when Rosie was still a TA and let Chaeyoung stand before her in the line at the cafeteria even though she got there first, when Rosie always brought two extra towels during PE for the two younger girls even though she didn’t aid the same class, when Rosie did this, when Rosie did that.

_When Rosie remembered Chaeyoung’s birthday when no one else did, not even the birthday girl herself._

"By the way", Rosie breaks Chaeyoung's string of thoughts. She scratches the back of her head sheepishly. "A lot of people try to get their hands on the free cake. As horrible as the food at the diner is, I heard the cake is god-tier. So, to make sure the coupons don't fall into wrong hands, you kind of need to bring your birth certificate along when you claim it…?"

Chaeyoung is dumbfounded. "My birth certificate?" _That ancient document?_

It's not that she's uncertain of any legal detail concerning her identity and birth, it's just that given the circumstances, Chaeyoung can't really blame her mother if she chose not to keep any traces of her youthful mistakes in the house.

Nayeon isn’t irresponsible; she’s just not the type to be exactly _organized_ with things. The ancient document must be somewhere underneath the pile of untouched papers and boxes of mementos in the spare room at the end of the hall.

Still, to drown away the fire of excitement in Rosie’s eyes is the last thing Chaeyoung wants to do.

She finds herself nodding her head. "Sure, unnie. I'll make sure to look for that thing later."

Rosie smiles wider. "Great! If that's the case, it'll be better if you get a head start on it already." She signals for the road. "I'll go ahead now and leave it to you?"

Chaeyoung nods. Rosie flashes her one last smile, beautiful as ever, before making her way out of the Im’s front door pathway.

Once the older girl is out of sight, a cold gush of breeze blows by, sending a small shiver down Chaeyoung’s spine and a tingling sensation all throughout her body. Fearing a cold, the small girl unlocks the front door and immediately steps inside, the emptiness of the house engulfing her whole.

***

“This is stupid”, Nayeon huffs as she takes a seat in front of the Public Relations department chief’s makeshift desk like a stubborn student called at the office. “Why am I the one in trouble when you saw exactly how that lady from the sales department threw the ball at me!?”

Here’s some context: The stupid company hosts a team building at the company open field every three years. This year is Nayeon’s first time for the company ever since starting last year. It’s a fresh beginning, and beginnings have always been incredibly important for Nayeon. It’s the only time she can build a foundation for a respectable image of herself for the future.

When the company announced that the team building will have a cheer-off (to be held at the headquarter's function hall) the competitive spirit in Im Nayeon immediately tried on her old cheerleading outfit—because being 39 years old doesn’t exactly mean she can’t have the body of someone in their 20s. She spent days recalling her old championship routines and studying the modernized ones, and was able to make up a simple routine for her team of other less-flexible and average middle-aged colleagues.

It’s not entirely Nayeon’s fault if she can still flaunt a flat stomach that could probably put to shame most people her age—and those even younger—when she’s already birthed one child. It’s also not her fault if she has the proportions of someone ten years her junior.

Nothing can be done if she used to be Cheerleading Royalty and can still perfect a front handspring, step-out, round-off back handspring, step-out, round-off back handspring, full twisting layout like it hasn’t been two decades since she bid the cheerleading industry goodbye.

There’s a reason why Nayeon hung her cheerleading jersey at the Hall of Fame showcase in the gym corridor at her old high school. She’s not just Cheerleading legend. She was the Queen herself.

If a simple front handspring, step-out, round-off back handspring, step-out, round-off back handspring, full twisting layout already had three members of the rivaling team backing out of the cheer-offs, then it is a guaranteed win for Nayeon’s team.

The rival team captain, some lady from the sales department, just couldn’t accept defeat. So when the CEO’s amazement was off the roof at Nayeon’s team’s routine—specifically at Nayeon—and had awarded them the trophy without even watching the rivaling team’s _We’re the mighty red team, the mighty mighty red team_ performance, a plastic ball was sent into the air, moving at an inhuman speed, spiraling towards Nayeon’s face.

That is how Nayeon is at the department chief’s office right now, getting scolded like a delinquent teen.

(To be fair, Park Jihyo is the Public Relations Chief, and Nayeon—for the sake of her and the blurring boundary between friendship and business—can’t get mad at her best friend even when it’s totally uncalled for)

“Nayeon”, Jihyo lets out an exasperated sigh. She’s still in her running shorts and dry-fit shirt, a visor cap to add up to the whole sporty MILF look Nayeon thinks she’s effortlessly pulling off. “I know what Kim did wasn’t exactly professional--…”

“It was fucking immature, Jihyo.” Nayeon exclaims. “A bouncy ball! A bouncy fucking ball was thrown at my face! And you’re being unfair because I get the scolding like some kid and she gets off without even a warning!”

Frankly, Nayeon feels betrayed more than anything, but the tension in Jihyo’s office is radiating so badly, it’s amazing how composed Jihyo is.

“Nayeon, she’s the Chief Sales Officer. I can’t scold her.”

“Now that’s just plain cruel, Jihyo.” Nayeon shakes her head in disappointment. “Out of all the people in the world, you’re the last person I expected to be unfair.”

“You can’t call me unfair when we both know you weren’t exactly innocent either, Nayeon.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Really? The _Initiation Routine_?” Jihyo throws her friend a flat glare. “You couldn’t have made a simpler routine for normal humans with normal bodies and average dancing abilities?”

And then Nayeon realizes it. Somehow, the manic preparation for the amateur cheer-off competition has completely clouded her mind over the one secret she’s been trying so hard to hide.

Nayeon groans miserably and hides her shame behind her hands. “Fuck. I forgot about that.”

Jihyo scoffs. “You made that completely obvious out there.”

There weren’t any clauses on the company contract regarding secret cheerleading pasts or single parentage, but the gender and marital discrimination was blaring and obvious. Women were already placed lower than men in the employment hierarchy; single mothers had to endure worse. Inflexible work schedules completely lessened their chances of promotions, not to mention, scrutiny from the people for being incapable mothers.

The company didn’t impose any exclusion on single mother work profiles, nor did it require any unnecessary field work and demanding schedules, but when Nayeon applied for a job at Jihyo’s department, the two had agreed to remove a few details from Nayeon’s resume for the sake of sanity and survival.

Other than being the 39-year-old bachelorette who attracted leers from the men whenever she strutted down the halls, the company didn’t have to know any other information than what was necessary. For the sake of Nayeon’s daughter, they decided to keep Chaeyoung’s existence a secret.

“Your performance out there is _definitely_ going to attract unnecessary stalking in your social media, Nayeon. They’re going to find out about Chaeyoung because of that selfish stunt you pulled off. ” Jihyo doesn’t mask any ounce of disappointment in her tone.

The innate instinct to defend herself comes in irrationally, the friendship between them is suddenly blurry and clouded. “Selfish? I just forgot about a minor detail and now I’m called selfish?” Nayeon scoffs, livid. “What’s next? You call me an irresponsible mother?”

Jihyo remains composed, only sporting a flat glare. “Exactly.” She crosses her arms over her chest and reclines in her seat. “You’re an irresponsible mother, Nayeon.”

The two women hold a staring contest for a whole minute, the tension in the room heavy and pulling them down. It’s only until Nayeon notices the arch in Jihyo’s brow does she realize this is her best friend’s way of provoking the anger out of her.

“Fine, Jihyo.” Nayeon gives in to the mental play. “What do you want to say? Come on, tell me.”

Jihyo’s lips curl into a triumphant grin. “You have to stop being so selfish, Nayeon.”

“What? Since when was I--…”

“At first I understood the context behind the decision to keep Chaeyoung a secret. I also don’t want your ass-face of an ex to find her and come pleading for partial custody, but your recent behavior has proved nothing but your immaturity catching on, Nayeon.” Jihyo sounds like a Principal, it’s annoying. Nayeon has her fists clenching at her sides to keep her composure.

“I get it if this is the reckless youth making up for the lost times, but I just want to remind you that you have an 18-year-old at home and I can’t be the only responsible one here accounting for _both_ of your recklessness!”

Although Jihyo doesn’t ultimately lash out, the overflowing frustration is definitely obvious with the way her face contorts into a deep scowl and her voice raises a note higher.

Nayeon feels little at Jihyo’s gaze. Somehow, the instinct to defend herself is alleviated, replaced by the guilt and shame brought upon the realization that her best friend is true, that she’s unknowingly left everything in the hands of the younger woman—including the responsibility for both her and her daughter’s actions.

“Jihyo…” Nayeon finds herself trailing off, remorse coating her tone. “I…I didn’t know…”

“Of course you don’t, Nayeon.” Jihyo lets out a deep exhale. Her voice regains its normality albeit still laced with disappointment. “You’ve been so occupied trying to find that lost child in you, you’ve completely forgotten about the _real_ daughter you have at home, trying to find her own mom.”

Maybe it’s trying to remember any memory beyond the last recollections of holding Chaeyoung for the first time eighteen years ago up to the memory of sending her daughter off to high school for the first time, and not remembering even a fragment of time when she was with her child; or maybe it’s the painful truth behind Jihyo’s words that pierce through Nayeon’s entire soul like a bloody rapier and the realization that she has no right to argue with Jihyo because the woman is absolutely correct; either way, Im Nayeon unknowingly finds her vision blurring with tears and her guts clenching with agonizing pain.

Jihyo’s face softens, and she reaches over her desk for her best friend’s hands. “I know it’s hard. Hell, it’s been hard for you since day one. Raising a child at 19? Not having to achieve your dreams of becoming a lawyer? Having to say goodbye so early to the one person you loved the most? I don’t think I would be able to go through that but _you_ did.”

Jihyo rubs soft circles on Nayeon’s trembling hand. “You’ve gone through hell and back. I can’t guarantee that any of this will be easier as time goes on. Frankly, I think it’ll only become harder. But you can’t give up _now_ , Nayeon. Not when Chaeyoung needs you most.”

Nayeon pulls her hand away from Jihyo’s hold and uses them to wipe the trails of tears smudging her makeup. “I…I don’t know what…what to do…” she struggles every few words, breath hitching from the crying.

“You can start with this”, Jihyo moves over to the side of her desk and presses a button on the answering machine beside the company telephone. Her greeting message rolls in, followed by the beep, and then a muffled voice of a woman with inaudible chattering in the background.

“ _Good afternoon, Jihyo, this is Sunmi. I left a message for Chaeyoung’s mom as well just to make sure the message gets relayed. There will be a mail for you but I just wanted to inform you beforehand that the school Board is requesting for Chaeyoung’s mom’s presence at the reformation meeting to be held tomorrow afternoon. They will be deciding on the proper sanction for Chaeyoung. More details will be on the mail you will be receiving. Uh, I called with the purpose of telling you that, though I am just her teacher and not even the guidance counselor at that, I am also a mom and I think that beyond anything else, Chaeyoung needs her mom the most._

_Jihyo, the board is strictly asking for Ms. Im’s sole presence and not a representative on her behalf. Although the circumstances are questionable, I am looking forward to meet Ms. Im. I hope you can forward this message to her, Jihyo. Thank you again.”_

The ending beep follows, and Jihyo turns to Nayeon, a flat expression on her face. “Act like a mom, Nayeon. Attend that.”

The friendliness at the tone of Chaeyoung’s English teacher ‘s voice suggests the comfortable relationship she shares with Jihyo, probably from having to meet the woman countless of times whenever she’s summoned after another one of Chaeyoung’s rebellious antics.

Nayeon wishes to have the same—to be recognized as someone important in Chaeyoung’s life. To get to know her daughter’s teachers, to know what her daughter is like in school—outside of the delinquent image everyone assumes of her—to get to know how her daughter’s been doing, in general.

Amidst the constant worry of never being enough for Chaeyoung and the constant disappointment she’s effortlessly given to her daughter, Nayeon musters up the little amount of courage she has in her to nod. Eyes bleary and breath gradually finding its way back to a normal rhythm; she stands up from the seat opposite Jihyo’s desk and takes a deep breath.

“O-Okay…” She lets out a long outbreath. “I promise to try my best this time, Jihyo.”

Jihyo looks up at her best friend with worry-stricken eyes that mirror a small glimmer of pride in them. “Don’t promise me that.” She stands up as well and walks over to wrap Nayeon in a comforting embrace. “Promise Chaeyoung that, Nayeon. And try not to break it this time.”

***

**Thirteen years ago.**

_The entire living room is dark and not a single light is allowed access inside the cold, murky room. The blinds have been drawn down and Nayeon is honestly unsure whether she’s still even inside the proper room or not._

_Whatever._

_What matters is the clearance of the pathway she’s walking on. The safety of the vanilla strawberry cake in her hold is at the top of her priorities right now. Any minute and Jihyo will arrive with Chaeyoung from their convenience store run—a simple excuse to get Nayeon’s little girl out of the house for the entire group to prepare their surprise party._

_“Sana, where are you?” Nayeon asks in a low hiss, she doesn’t know why._

_Her living room isn’t even that big. Why the heck does it feel like she’s trying to find the formula aisle at the grocery store? (Nayeon has yet to figure out a way to improve her pitiable navigation skills. Jihyo’s volunteered for grocery shopping with her now, saving them fifteen minutes of despaire.)_

_“I’m here!” Sana, of course, doesn’t bother lowering her bubbly voice down. Somewhere in the far distance, Nayeon hears Mina hush at their chirpy friend who’s handling the juice boxes._

_Nayeon kicks away the balloons Momo had blown in to life, and manages to find the marble island in the kitchen, where she places the delicate birthday cake Mina offered to provide for her favorite goddaughter._

_The island counter is rid of everything irrelevant to Chaeyoung’s birthday surprise. Nayeon makes last minute inspections, confirming everything is in place, before the entire room is shushed to a pin-drop at the sound of the passcode getting entered._

_Nayeon stands in the middle of kitchen behind the island, with Mina, Sana, and Momo at her sides._

_The door opens with a click and the sight of Jihyo’s shadow towering over Chaeyoung’s petite frame greets the silent room._

_“Jihyo, where’s mommy?” Chaeyoung’s small, adorable voice resonates and Nayeon feels a tug at her heart._

_Jihyo closes the door behind them and takes one of Chaeyoung’s hands, holding it tight. “Maybe in the kitchen, Chae.”_

_Out-of-beat steps slowly make their way to the kitchen, getting louder and louder. The moment Chaeyoung enters the kitchen, still in her cute floral dress and her hair tied up into pigtails, Nayeon jumps out and Jihyo opens the lights._

_Everyone shouts their hearts out, “Surprise!”_

_The excitement gets into little Chaeyoung and she jumps up and down in place, dropping gummy bears in the process, thrilled with all the unadulterated happiness in her eyes as she watches her mom and aunts walk over to her with a giant strawberry cake._

_Everyone sings Chaeyoung happy birthday. Mina, Momo, and Sana carry their gifts with them while Jihyo stands aside and records the entire thing with her new handheld camcorder._

_Nayeon crouches down on her knees to meet her daughter’s eyes, cake in her two hands._

_Chaeyoung’s smile widens at the sight of her mother. “Hi, mommy.”_

_“Hi, baby”, Nayeon didn’t know she was capable of this much love but when Chaeyoung entered her life, she knew she was going to do everything in her power to make sure her daughter feel all the love in the world._

_“Happy birthday.” Nayeon holds the cake closer to Chaeyoung. “Make a wish.”_

_Chaeyoung follows her mother and shuts her eyes close, brows furrowing in deep concentration as she clasps her hands together in a prayer, as if asking all the birthday gods to grant her this wish._

_It takes a few seconds before Chaeyoung opens her eyes again. Jihyo makes sure the event is stored in her camcorder. Everyone’s on their knees, watching and smiling at the adorable sight._

_Chaeyoung blows her all six of her candles, the same number as her new age now._

_“What did you wish for, princess?” Jihyo glances from beside her camcorder._

_Chaeyoung hesitates for a little while with an adorable sly smile. She gives in with a giggle. “I wished for mommy.”_

_Nayeon grimaces. “Wished for me?”_

_Chaeyoung shakes her head with another giggle. “I wished for Other Mommy.” She dips her tiny finger into the cake’s icing and pokes it on her mommy’s nose. Rudolph from the story book had the same buttoned nose but her mommy looked better with it. “Yerimie told me we all have two mommies and daddies. I want the same too.”_

_Nayeon is visibly taken aback, absentmindedly blinking at her own child and the unexpected request made with hopeful onyx eyes and that adorable pout. It’s hard at the pedestal of her child. One flicker of her daughter’s eyes and Nayeon is damned. She’ll climb mountains and cross oceans for this kid. She’ll do anything—even if it means making the impossible happen._

***

The entire living room is dark and not a single light is allowed access inside the cold, murky room.

Chaeyoung lets out a deep, disappointed sigh as she closes the door behind her. She should have known better than to let that tiny spark of hope ignite a fire in her soul. It may be the evening before her 19th birthday but other than that, it’s still a normal day and regularity necessitates her mother’s obsession over working hours past her shift.

It’s not that Chaeyoung doesn’t appreciate Nayeon’s hard work. It pays for a _lot_ of things even when ample and can barely provide a comfortable life. But her mother’s career-driven outlook won’t compensate for all the nights Chaeyoung came home from school to an empty house or all the missed school events and birthday celebrations. She doesn’t even know what her mother looks like anymore. Chaeyoung leaves for school and Nayeon’s still asleep in her room, and when she comes back from school, Nayeon’s at the office working until the wee hours of the day.

In spite of the ever-growing strain in their relationship, however, Chaeyoung still wishes for that one miraculous day her mother gets a hold of it and decides her daughter’s more important than her career.

Unfortunately, the birthday gods don’t grant her wishes anymore.

Chaeyoung doesn’t let the disappointment ruin her night any further.

She walks to her room, throws her backpack on the bed, and grabs a fresh batch of clothes to change in to before walking back down the opposite hall with her phone in hand, towards the storage room where the legal documents and other mementos are kept.

Chaeyoung won’t allow the night to end without her being able to greet the next day with a birthday cake.

The storage room is situated at the opposite hall from Chaeyoung’s room, adjacent to her mother’s bedroom and the spare room Nayeon turned into an office.

They barely go through the room so it’s only expected when cobwebs greet Chaeyoung’s face the moment she pushes open the door. Dust lingers in the air and it honestly looks like the entire house had transcended through time but left this one room behind. It looks like a trip down memory lane.

Unlike the entire house’s interior design—cracked warm white walls and unkempt carpeted flooring—the storage room has laminated floors and grey walls (It was white before. Chaeyoung supposes it’s all the accumulated dust and dirt from having left the room unattended all these years).

There are boxes after boxes scattered all over the small room—it’s only a little bit bigger than the bathroom—and Chaeyoung is tempted to go through everything again because of her love for antiques, but now she focuses on looking for the ancient box containing all the legal documents her mother has effortlessly didn’t try to keep.

She sifts through the boxes that could fit the legal documents’ size one by one, patiently seated on the cold laminated floors with the crowding boxes pushed aside and circling her like she’s in the middle of a ritual.

A few of the boxes contain pure trash—crumpled papers and other things with no importance whatsoever—and some others contain sentimental value.

One small box holds a few objects Chaeyoung remembers belonging to some time in between preparatory school to her elementary days. There are chewed pencils and scented fruit-shaped erases, and a few of her old _abstract_ drawings inside. Chaeyoung makes sure to keep the folded drawing of a rainbow inside her pocket.

She continues to look through the other boxes until she accidentally knocks a stack of the cardboard containers over, instantly sending its contents dwindling and scattering on the floor.

Chaeyoung lets out an exasperated curse. While tending to the scattered mess of dusty old papers and notes, she accidentally ends up face-to-face with a hardcover book sticking out like a sore thumb in the pile of documents.

The front cover is plain black with a few dried stains here and there.

With curiosity swelling inside of her, Chaeyoung blows away the dust on the heavy book and checks it out.

The first page is even more stained but now with fraying ink of different colors, each signifying a signature with no name. The heavy-case letters stand out in the middle of the page: **APGUJEONG PRIVATE SCHOOL BATCH 1999**.

Now, even though Nayeon is as enigmatic as a black scheming cat wandering the streets at night, Chaeyoung still knows a snobby private school kid when she sees one and her mother is no exception. The way Nayeon carries herself screams _Apgujeong Private School_ , and the familiar-looking hot-pink-and-black-striped cheerleading uniform that’s hanging on her cabinet gives everything away.

Chaeyoung’s wonderment gets the best of her and she soon begins flipping through the pages of the 90s extravaganza, looking through people’s faces printed in black and white, styled in that distinguishable 90s fashion and hairdo, smiling as if there was no tomorrow.

Ultimately, she ends up looking for her mother’s page. It’s not that easy, though, because the entire population of Korea has at least a million people with the surname _Im_ , and Chaeyoung doubts her mother is special enough to not share an entire section with the same surname and have her own page in the—

_Oh, would you look at that. I stand corrected._

Her mother _is_ special enough to not share an entire section with the same surname. And she even has her own page in their school yearbook.

Facial features are toned down to a neutral with a small tug at the corners of her lips, which a darker shade against the alabaster complexion, suggesting a heavy coat of lipstick. Nayeon’s hair is long and wavy, and styled in a manner that’s closer to modern chic than the usual 90s bravura.

Her name is printed in black, conspicuous typeface. **IM NAYEON.** Underneath it, **Senior Student Council (Vice-President), Performing Arts Club (President), 4-1 Class President.**

Chaeyoung reads the write-up for her mom and gawks at specific lines that just _scream_ a new side to her mother she didn’t even know was present, didn’t even know could be possible in real life because she could only see it from the movies and books.

“ **the entire hallway parts when she walks with her friends…the seniors’ next big boss…** ” and most of all, “ **the better Cher Horowitz…** ”

Chaeyoung’s astonishment is almost comical if only she wasn’t just as horrified.

_She was cool?_

Chaeyoung tries to flip to the other page to look for any other write-up, but she’s only greeted with a stack of crumpled pictures that look half-burnt, as if whoever tried to burn it ended up uninterested to finish halfway.

She unfolds the crumpled pictures and takes a good look at the nostalgic sepia photographs. There are at least ten of them—Chaeyoung guessed—and most were of her mother and a bunch of high school friends Chaeyoung could recognize a few being her aunt Jihyo, two other women she can recall the name to but can't exactly pinpoint which is which (Sana and Momo?), and a few other girls who appear more than twice in the pictures. 

Chaeyoung adored the vintage effect with each passing photograph, but her attention was piqued the most by three pictures of her mother with the same short-haired blonde woman.

At first she figures it could be another one of Nayeon’s devotees, but then Chaeyoung notices the way her mother clings to the woman as if for dear life, always either with their fingers interlaced or their arms hooked with each other’s.

And then there’s also the way her mother’s smiles are brighter with this woman, and her eyes glimmer a look of happiness Chaeyoung only ever saw a few times in her life (twice it was immortalized on photographs: one was on a picture of when Nayeon had given birth to Chaeyoung, cradling the tiny infant in her hands, and the other was some time in Chaeyoung’s childhood, a birthday party with Chaeyoung blowing the candle and Nayeon smiling adoringly behind).

 _She must be someone special,_ Chaeyoung assumes, but then there were the irritating melody stickers covering the important portions of the woman’s face—in _every_ picture she was in—denying Chaeyoung any semblance of recognition with her face. _Maybe mom’s angry with her?_

Either way, Chaeyoung decides to keep the crumpled pictures along with her rainbow drawing. She’s definitely going to ask Jihyo about this mysterious woman in her mother’s pictures. 

She continues going through memory lane until she comes across a yellow piece of paper, a shade that could rival the sun's brightness, with a few rips at the sides and the corner tip torn off. On it is a distinguishable chicken scratch handwriting Chaeyoung recognizes is her mother's, words written in fraying black ink.

_No more leaving and running. I, Im Nayeon, will stay forever with you. My partner in everything, Yoo Kyungwan._

_4-9-99_

"Yoo Kyungwan?" Chaeyoung tries to say the name, in hopes of igniting at least a flicker of remembrance in her brain for the name. Maybe it's another one of her mother's friends? _But they seem too close to be just friends and aunt Jihyo's never mentioned anyone by the name Yoo Kyungwan..._

Chaeyoung is too occupied to notice the door behind her opening, light from the outside world creeping in the space between the frame and the door. A shadow casts over Chaeyoung, and it's only then does she notice the presence.

Towering over her figure is her mother in all of her post-office glory, "Chaeyoung, what are you–" and then the words slip away when Nayeon's confused eyes catch a glimpse of the yellow post-it in her daughter's hold, the whole damn world suddenly slips away too. 

***

The day Nayeon had been dreading for so long has come too soon, a dark sensation ebs its way to her guts, all the motivational talk from Jihyo dissipating into thin air and nothingness. A heavy tension looms over the mother and daughter, but with the cluelessness in Chaeyoung's eyes, Nayeon knows she's the only one feeling the gut-wrenching tension.

_That note…_

It's not like Chaeyoung has an inkling of an idea that she's holding Nayeon's entire black hole of a past in her hands. The kid has nothing to do with her mother's abandonment issues. And yet, Nayeon's eyes turn a shade darker, dilated and livid, and all the better judgement is clouded by the strong emotion brought by the yellow post-it she's tried so _hard_ to keep hidden away.

"What. Are. You. Doing. _With that._ " Every word is heavy and laced with venom. More _familiar_ pictures are scattered on the ground, as well as Nayeon's old yearbook, and suddenly Nayeon feels even more held down by her emotions. 

Chaeyoung is not going to lie, seeing her mother home so early set off a small glimmer of hope inside of her. That maybe Nayeon remembered it was her child's birthday all along and had come home early to celebrate it. But then Nayeon's words are stern and sharp, and her eyes are a darker shade than normal if that was possible, and she looks at Chaeyoung as if she was a stranger breaking in. She abruptly stands up from the floor. 

"M-Mom…" damn it to hell, really, because Chaeyoung's built herself up so high and sturdy just to cower in front of Nayeon, as if no matter how strong she paints herself as, she's still a lost child just longing for her mother again. 

Nayeon's careful steps are lost in calculation, and she stomps towards Chaeyoung with the speed of a lioness, yanking the yellow post-it from her daughter's hand a little too hard. 

"Why are you going through my things?" She crumples the note and doesn't dare look away from Chaeyoung's sullen eyes. This is the first time she's seen her daughter so vulnerable again, but Nayeon's too clouded by her anger to notice.

"I...I wasn't going through your–…" 

Nayeon moves past Chaeyoung and begins picking up the pictures on the floor. "You _know_ I don't like it when you take your behavior home, Chaeyoung." 

"My...my behavior?"

Nayeon slides the pictures back into the yearbook and places the hardcover back into one of the discarded boxes. 

She stands up and towers over her daughter. "I am not going to tolerate this...this _troubled_ behavior of yours anymore if you _ever_ try to go through my things again–"

And maybe it's the false righteousness in her mother's tone, of the good-mom card being played once again, or maybe it's the annoying feeling of condescension from the way Nayeon towers over her and talks to her; whichever it is, the anxiety in Chaeyoung's system is replaced by something darker, brought upon by the realization that she's still in the cruel reality and her reality doesn't include a mother in Im Nayeon. 

"What the _fuck_ are you talking about?"

At the explicit language used on her, Nayeon feels snapped back to reality. She suddenly sees her daughter again in front of her and not the boiling darkness of anger at the ghost of the past. "I...uh…"

But it's too late. The tables have been turned. 

"First of all, _mom_ , I wasn't going through your fucking things, so drop the accusations as if I'm a fucking thief breaking in", Chaeyoung makes sure her words' sharpness rival the language used on her. She may be smaller than her mother, but she makes sure her lividness is projected just as strong. "Second, my _behavior?_ Stop fucking playing that card again, _mom."_

 _Mom._ Everytime the word slips off her daughter's lips, Nayeon feels like a part of her soul is being chipped away. 

"Chaeyoung…"

But Chaeyoung is far from done.

"You _don't_ get to act all tired of me when we both know you _haven't_ been doing anything in the first place."

"Chae…"

"No. Don't call me that." Chaeyoung snaps. "While we're at the topic, let me ask you in the first place who the hell is Yoo Kyungwan and why the _fuck_ are you so defensive? It's just a _note, mom."_ She takes a step forward. "If this is some lost love and you're taking out your anger at me, you're just wasting your time. You've projected me as just another one of your other youthful regrets a _lot_ of times already, it's getting boring now." 

It must be the motherly instinct that _just won't get out_ of her system, or the shame washing over her at the realization of her harsh words–not to mention, directed at her daughter–but Nayeon tries to reach for Chaeyoung's hand, to hold it for whatever purpose she can't think of; however, Chaeyoung recoils away in an instant, as if a monster had reach out for her. (Honestly, what's even the difference right now?) 

Chaeyoung throws Nayeon a dark glare, as if trying to pierce right through the woman's soul. There's a tug at the upper corner of her lip, as if scoffing incredulously. 

She treads heavily to the door, leaving her mother in hollowness of the room, but stops halfway.

Chaeyoung remembers one last message she's been _dying_ to relay. 

"Oh, I almost forgot." She presses the side of her phone to illuminate the device and flashes it right at Nayeon's face. _11:10._ "I wasn't really planning on telling you this but I guess you can know." 

Nayeon only looks at her daughter. 

The confusion on her mother's face immediately tells Chaeyoung Nayeon _didn't_ know. She snorts, not surprised. 

"It's my birthday later. In case you wanted to know." 

A mental calendar flashes in Nayeon's mind. She counts the days. It's April, yes. _But what fucking day? 19...20...21 was yester—fuck._ "Chae‐…"

"Don't. Even. Bother." Chaeyoung narrows her eyes at her mother before uttering, "I'm leaving."

Nayeon chases her to the door. "Where are you going?!"

Chaeyoung reaches for the door. "To celebrate my birthday somewhere away from you.”

***

This is where Chaeyoung finds herself at a few minutes before her birthday: on the cold, bricked alleyway of the diner, back against the wall, praying for someone— _anyone_ —to open the door for her.

Rosie never mentioned it being open for 24 hours but Chaeyoung guesses if the older girl had given her the coupon and had wished for her to celebrate her birthday with a free cake then it must be implied that the subpar diner is open until the wee hours of the day.

It’s freezing outside despite it being in the middle of _fucking_ April and the harsh winds begin blowing just as Chaeyoung perfectly decides to step out in her house clothes—a muscle tee and some shorts—and stay out until someone finds her and saves her (preferably not her aunt Jihyo because she’ll definitely just drag Chaeyoung back to her house and force her to reconcile with Nayeon and _god knows_ Chaeyoung isn’t ready for that yet, not when she’s just blown up at her mother and her heart is _still_ heavy)

After standing outside the diner for what feels like forever, Chaeyoung sighs in defeat and thinks of other ways to survive the cold night. She thinks of Rosie but it would be too imposing of her to ask for a night over when the older girl’s already given her a birthday coupon; she thinks of Yerim but it’s already 11PM and _god knows_ the “bad girl” has a curfew to live by.

_Who the fuck, then?_

Just when Chaeyoung feels like the entire universe is conspiring against her; a clicking sound resonates from behind, followed by the chime of the bell on top of the diner’s door.

The familiar stench of the diner fills her nostrils. Chaeyoung immediately jumps up from the floor. “Oh my god. _Thank you_ for opening the--…”

Her words slip away when it’s an unfamiliar—and frankly, creepy-looking—old woman standing behind the door, holding it open. She has faded white hair tied in a low and messy ponytail behind her, strands falling at the sides of her wrinkled and stoic face. 

“Uh…hello…” Chaeyoung immediately bows respectfully. “I was…I was just…asking if…I can claim this…?” She pulls out the coupon from her pocket and shows it to the old woman who isn’t even wearing the diner’s uniform. “I…I kind of forgot the birth certificate but…but it’s my birthday tomorrow— _later_ , I mean—and I’m really hungry--…”

 _Oh my god. I sound like a beggar on the streets. I even look like one._ Chaeyoung only thinks of it then. Would the ahjumma even believe her without the crappy birth certificate?

“You know what, never mind…” Chaeyoung bows her head apologetically. “Sorry for wasting your time. I’m going to--…”

“Come in,” the old woman’s voice is guttural and raspy, and she opens the door wider for Chaeyoung to enter.

Chaeyoung doesn’t even hesitate no matter how skeptical the old woman seems to be. It’s too cold outside, if she stays even a minute longer, she might freeze to death.

The diner is empty and warm, dark and deafeningly quiet. Most of the lights are turned off save for the neon lettering decors mounted on the walls. The bar stools aren’t occupied by disgusting truck men and their leering gazes anymore. The booths are empty of reckless high school kids trashing the place.

At that exact moment, the diner looked magical.

“Sit here.”

The old woman’s voice resonates around the entire empty diner. Chaeyoung wordlessly obliges and sits down on one of the bar stools by the counter where the truck men usually hung by. She watches as the old woman disappears into the kitchen without a word and then begins calculating all the possibilities of the woman being a murderer and that she’s actually stepping voluntarily into a trap for her own death.

Before she could even make a run for it, the old lady returns with a small cake in hand, face brightly lit by one small candle placed on the middle. Her lips curl a small smile and her eyes glimmer with the candlelight.

With her guttural, raspy voice she begins singing a melancholic version of Happy Birthday, walking towards Chaeyoung by the counter.

It’s probably from the fight, or the exhaustion brought to her by the entire day, but when the cake is placed in front of Chaeyoung, baby pink in frosting and decorated by the sides with small strawberry pieces, Chaeyoung’s eyes begin swelling with tears.

When the sullen song ends, the old lady tells Chaeyoung, “You have one wish. Make it count.”

Images of her mother’s anguished eyes flash in her head, Nayeon’s sharp words replaying back and forth, ringing in her ears.

There’s the yearbook in her mind, all of those pictures of 90s high school extravaganza and how happy they all looked like. And then there’s that woman in her mother’s pictures, and the smile on her mother’s face had never been so bright.

 _Happiness._ _If only I could turn back time, I’d wish for mom’s happiness._

Chaeyoung closes her eyes and feels a tear trail down her cheek. 

The clock strikes twelve.

She makes her wish.


	2. teenage dirtbags

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After staring back and forth at herself and the pretty stranger before her, Chaeyoung tries to summon all of the reasoning inside of her to try and figure out what is happening. It takes a minute or two for her to deduce a possible reason: It’s all just a dream.
> 
> A hyper-sensitive-uber-realistic-somewhat-creepy-but-nonetheless-fulfilling-because-a-pretty-girl knows-her-name kind of dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to the 90s, baby

_ Nine years ago was the first birthday in young Chaeyoung’s life where celebrated without Nayeon. _

_ There was a small cake from auntie Jihyo’s favorite pastry shop. A candle sparked the dark, lonely room. Aunt Jihyo tried to celebrate the night, and Chaeyoung tried to pretend to be happy, but Jihyo’s eyes had dark circles underneath them and her smile wasn’t half as bright as before. She looked like she cried. Chaeyoung was too young to figure that out. _

_ After blowing the cake, Chaeyoung’s wish was for a happy heart. _

_ The birthday gods must have stopped hearing wishes from her because she couldn’t sleep that night, not when her mother’s door was left opened and Jihyo’s shadow could be seen moving from across the hall. Not when the walls weren’t soundproof and Chaeyoung could hear her aunt Jihyo’s muffled sobs. Not when Nayeon returned in the wee hours of the morning and the crying only doubled. _

_ There were names mentioned. Three of which were familiar. It’s been years since auntie Mina, auntie Sana, and auntie Momo promised her they would come back. “We’ll come back tomorrow” turned into “We’ll be back in a few weeks”, and then “We’ll see you soon”, until soon became no talking and seeing each other anymore, and Nayeon’s never mentioned their names ever again. _

_ Something happened but Chaeyoung never found out what. All she knows is four became three, until it became nothing at all anymore. It was just Nayeon and Jihyo. _

_ In hindsight, Chaeyoung should have known the night of her 9 _ _ th _ _ birthday was the start of it all. _

__

***

The aftermath comes in tsunami waves of dull, piercing pain gnawing at her skull, a rapid cadence thumping behind her ribcage, and a really parched sandpaper-like throat scraping whenever she tries to even let out the smallest of groans.

Naturally, Chaeyoung checks her pulse. Because her legs feel too jelly-like to stand up and any attempt at trying to make sure her mind functions is futile. She needs to make sure she’s still alive.

When that is ticked off her list, Chaeyoung then proceeds to check her surroundings.

She first sees cold and dirty asphalt beneath her stretched-out legs, puddles of water here and there. Chaeyoung’s sat on the ground. Her eyes move slowly up to the sides of her thighs, where she sees the first unusual detail: a black plaid skirt falling idly a few inches above her knees.

_ When did I change into a skirt…? _

The second detail follows a little later on, when Chaeyoung notices how she’s no longer leaning on the diner’s glass door but is now resting her back against a bright-red-painted bricked wall that runs until the dead-end of the back alley. The ground is cold asphalt and the entire space smells like a garbage dump.

(Chaeyoung only realizes why a second later)

The third detail comes in lightning speed, from the way the sun glares down on her figure from above. It’s daytime—afternoon, specifically.

_ Did I fall asleep? _

The fourth and last detail is the most terrifying one.

There’s a girl standing at the end of the alley, just by the turn, in all of her statuesque glory.

She’s clad in the same black plaid skirt falling down to her thighs, modeling perfectly-built legs that Chaeyoung could only pray to possess, coupled with an oversized black Benetton sweater and vintage Haruta loafers Chaeyoung last time checked was already phased out in all of public and online store outlets not because it’s out of the season, rather, because it’s  _ out of date. _ Haruta loafers were all the rage in the 90s.

The girl is pretty, that Chaeyoung easily concludes with just one look.

She conveys a strong aura with her perfectly-sculpted face and her shoulder-length somewhat ash-gray hair naturally swaying at the sides of her face, accentuating its oval shape.

It only dawns on Chaeyoung that she’s been ogling at the tall stranger when the girl cocks an eyebrow at her and crosses her arms over her chest, resting her weight on one leg.

“Are you going to sit there until your ass melts off?”

The girl’s explicit use of language is like a knife piercing through Chaeyoung’s bubble of thoughts. She shakes her mind out of her reverie and pushes herself off the asphalt ground.

“O-Oh, I…I—uh—sorry…” Chaeyoung dusts off the dirt and fixes the creases on the random skirt she’s wearing.

She desperately not to frown at the tall girl making her way towards her; It’s hard to keep her brows a straight line and her eyes a normal size when a pretty tall stranger is acknowledging her entire presence.

_ Is this a dream? _

When they’re exactly face to face, it’s only then Chaeyoung gets to appreciate the intricacies of this random girl’s face and her overall bravura. Round metal frames sit atop the bridge of her nose, enlarging eyes looking down at Chaeyoung in a manner that isn’t exactly intimidating but also not welcoming either. She would’ve looked welcoming if it weren’t for her chic aura and the oversized crucifix earrings Chaeyoung just  _ knows _ is a rebellious performance.

“You’re Son Chaeyoung?”

The girl’s tone is tough and if Chaeyoung wasn’t as dense, she would have easily squirmed at the prospect of the girl who looks like a Yakuza member.

Instead, Chaeyoung busies herself with the right course of action:

1)  _ Question _ . Clarify where the  _ fuck _ she is because clearly, she didn’t remember changing into a skirt in the middle of the night—nor did she even remember falling asleep in the first place;

2)  _ Don’t panic. _ Losing her shit in front of a pretty, cool-looking girl is the  _ last _ thing she wants to do. Just because this stranger knows her name doesn’t mean something’s wrong, right?

_ Right? _

After staring back and forth at herself and the pretty stranger before her, Chaeyoung tries to summon all of the reasoning inside of her to try and figure out what is happening. It takes a minute or two for her to deduce a possible reason: It’s all just a dream.

_ A hyper-sensitive-uber-realistic-somewhat-creepy-but-nonetheless-fulfilling-because-a-pretty-girl knows-her-name  _ kind of dream.

“What? Are you mute or something?”

Chaeyoung bobs her head side to side. “I--…I’m not--…”

“You’re not Son Chaeyoung?” The girl cocks a brow derisively.

The ultimate best course of action here is to be practical, Chaeyoung thinks as she gapes at the pretty stranger who probably wants to kick her ass right now.

_ This must be from the exhaustion or whatever. Or maybe I’m dead and this is the place in between Heaven and earth—or hell and earth, honestly anywhere is better than in mom’s company, _

After her mind makes the necessary calculates—because somehow, it always works perfectly when it involves girls but never when actually necessary like, say, a calculus exam—Chaeyoung finally decides to entertain and live in this dream.

Nothing could possibly go wrong with engaging in such an illusory world, right?

“You know what, to hell with this”, she mutters under her breath and flashes her brightest smile. “I’m Son Chaeyoung, sorry. I was just--…”

“Save the excuses for the dorm’s headmistress”, the girl holds up her hand and stops Chaeyoung halfway. “She asked me to take you to the dorm and help you unpack but I have practice in an hour so I just asked someone else to help you around.”

It’s not even a request. The girl is outright stating it. Chaeyoung has hardly ever came around such straightforward people—Yerim will  _ always _ be an exemption—and something about this stranger just screams an enigmatic atmosphere. Normally, a bad first impression automatically has Chaeyoung walking away, but this girl in front of her is reeling her in. And either way, there’s no option left here.

As if right on cue, another girl shows up at the end of the alleyway, clad in the similar-looking black plaid skirt and a white collared long-sleeve underneath a knitted sweater vest with weird Nordic print. Her hair is a light shade of yellow, voluminous and in small curls, parted to the side, cascading to her chest. She looks like a walking Bubblegum Kpop playlist on Spotify.

She reminds Chaeyoung of Drew Barrymore in the 90s, minus the hot red lipstick and the bad girl aura.

This girl is a ball of sunshine—to the literal extent of it.

“Unnie!”

Chaeyoung’s eardrums recoil at the high-pitched voice. No human could possibly possess such enthusiasm but here the girl is, skipping towards them with a bright smile, proving Chaeyoung wrong to the highest degree.

Beside Chaeyoung resound a small scoff and a whisper of “Here she is”, just as the girl stands in between Chaeyoung and the pretty stranger.

The pretty stranger pats the bubbly girl on the back, “This is Dahyun. Same year as you. She’ll tour you around.” The girl only directs a smile at Chaeyoung. “I’ll be going. Dubs, call me if she’s dying. Other than that, don’t bother me.”

Despite the seriousness laced in the taller girl’s threatening words, Dahyun still remains showing off a perfect set of front row teeth, dashing and bright. “I will, unnie. Take care!”

But her cheerful words are left unrequited as the taller girl immediately jogs away, leaving Chaeyoung in the company of the bubbly Dahyun who’s still sporting the smile a little bit bigger now—if that was even possible—directed towards the clueless new girl.

“So, as per proper introduction”, Dahyun makes a show of fixing her collar and clearing her throat. She begins talking about things but Chaeyoung only watches her and observes silently, thinking about how Dahyun reminds her so much of those goody-two-shoes Christian girls who always seem to be too nice for their own good.

Dahyun wears ugly Christmas sweater vests, knee-high white socks, and penny loafers. Although she sports a Bad Bitch™ kind of rugged hairstyle with the parted side and the volume, the blonde is every bit of good Christian girl energy.

Chaeyoung might as well assume Dahyun is a member of the stupid School Welcoming Committee—

“—I’m actually the President of the School Welcoming Committee…”

Chaeyoung stands corrected.

“What about you?” Dahyun loops an arm around Chaeyoung’s, and the shock coming from the physical interaction sends Chaeyoung stumbling back a little.

The force of the movement leaves Chaeyoung in thoughts, suddenly wondering the possibility of feeling  _ something _ when in a dream. She has the ability to actively think she's in a dream and decide her course of actions on things. Scientifically speaking, normal dreams don’t hold such power like that.

_ Unless… _

“Oh my God.” Chaeyoung feels her eyes widen at the thought.

Dahyun’s smile visibly falters. She stops whatever she is saying. “What’s wrong?”

“This is all just a dream.” Chaeyoung cranes her neck and looks around her environment. They’re still at the crampy and smelly alleyway. She untangles herself in Dahyun’s hold and attempts to hit her own arm to wake up.

The course of action only sends Chaeyoung wincing in pain afterwards.

“What are you doing?!” Dahyun immediately grabs the arm and glances between the forming red mark and the scowling Chaeyoung wailing in pain.

Chaeyoung feels completely dumbfounded. “This is just a dream! But I can feel pain! That can’t happen!”

The sheer panic in the misaligned realizations sends Chaeyoung hysteric. To stay sane, she normally makes a habit of generating connections between the things that happen around her. If this happens, then this happens. This is the result of this. It’s a routine Chaeyoung perpetually lives by and the moment it gets broken, she loses any grip on her sanity and  _ god knows an anxious Chaeyoung is the worst kind of them all. _

“I’m  _ lucid dreaming _ , Dahyun.”

Chaeyoung grabs both of Dahyun’s shoulders and shakes her entire body frantically. “I can actively make decisions. I can feel pain. I just thought of you as an annoying and naïve goody-two-shoes Christian girl, Dahyun! You looked like the human embodiment of Girls’ Generation’s entire debut album!”

She tries searching for any semblance of dream-like features in the blonde’s eyes for any confirmation that this is all really just an illusion of the mind, only to get absolutely  _ nothing  _ but genuinely concerned brown eyes.

Dahyun only blinks at the smaller girl for a solid minute, lost in her rollercoaster of thoughts. 

“W-What’s…Girls’ Generation?”

"Oh. My. God.” Chaeyoung visibly recoils with a sharp gasp.

“W-What?”

“You don’t know the greatest, most empowering girl group of all time?” It’s offensive, to say the least.

Dahyun shakes her head. “You mean S.E.S?”

_ S.E.S? _ It's Chaeyoung's turn to frown. “Who?”

“Shoo, Eugene, Sea?” Dahyun says matter-of-factly. “S.E.S I’m Your Girl!  _ Narur mido jugir bare hamke isso! _ Cause I'm your girl hold me baby tonight~!”

Chaeyoung only watches as the blonde girl begins flailing her arms up and down in jumping jack motions, leaping side to side in the process and off the beat of whatever she’s singing, doing what looks like a dance with equal enthusiasm and frustration at the same time.

After the show, breathless from the sudden dancing, Dahyun shoots Chaeyoung an expectant look. “Now, do you remember?”

The girl doesn’t even know anymore.

“What am I even supposed to--…”

“How can you possibly not know SES?!” The frustration is deep-rooted and Dahyun is flailing her arms in wide motions, Chaeyoung can only blink for a few seconds before getting engrossed by the exasperation.

She finds herself thrashing her own arms in equal frustration. “And you don’t know Girls’ Generation as well! How can you possibly not know them!?”

“It’s 1998 for goodness’ sake! I don’t know any group from the 60s!”

And that's when Chaeyoung’s brain stutters for a moment, partially from the realization that someone in this universe, a Korean let alone, doesn't know Girls' Generation, and partially from the year she just heard escape Dahyun's lips. It feels like every wisp of air has been knocked out of her lungs. “What did you just say?”

The loss of exasperation tames Dahyun down a little. “Uh…I don’t know any group from the 60s?”

“No, before that.”

“Uh...it’s 1998 for goodness’ sake?”

Chaeyoung takes a deep inhale. “It’s 1998?”

Dahyun nods her head hesitantly.

It all comes crashing down on Chaeyoung. The stars finally align together. The hair? The uniform? The bizarre fashion? The  _ lack _ of proper Music education? A group called SES? The ability to feel pain and make decisions? 

_ The Diner. The weird old lady.  _

_ The fucking wish.  _

Chaeyoung feels nauseous.  _ Holy shit.  _

A few seconds of silence pass, she marches to the bricked wall across them. 

When Chaeyoung is face to face with the red tiles, she takes a deep breath and shuts her eyes close. She pulls her head back into an awkward angle and counts down from three.

_ Maybe intense level of pain will knock some sense into me and— _

"What are you doing?!" Dahyun immediately steps in between Chaeyoung and the wall, holding both sides of the younger girl's head with her hands. "Are you insane!?" 

Chaeyoung might as well be with her situation. 

The frantic look in the once-bubbly Dahyun's eyes sends a tightening in Chaeyoung's guts. She can't possibly be stuck in this era, right? The year of voluminous, sleep-mussed hair; the year of Britney Spears and the Backstreet Boys; the year of Queen Lee Hyori? 

_ The time I was born… _

And then it hits Chaeyoung. 

The reason why she's here is because she's wished for this using the one birthday candle the old diner lady gave her. She wished for her mother's happiness.

This says a lot. The scientific dynamics of time travelling has never been one to fascinate Chaeyoung. She was more of a lover of the arts and fiction, of the abstract imagination. Her philosophy in life didn't include scientific reasons behind everything. She was more of a romantic, despite her trouble in admitting to it. 

Time travelling was an issue Chaeyoung left for the films and the television industry. About Time? Time Traveller's Wife? Back to the Future? She only watched them and enjoyed a few. It never occurred to her that she'd take part in the exact same concept of a fictitious event. 

_ If I'm in 1998, then no one would believe me if I tell them that I'm from the Present. Because this is their Present and I'm part of it somehow… _

"Chaeyoung?" Dahyun's voice snaps Chaeyoung out of her reverie. Her cheeks are still squished between the soft warmth of Dahyun's floral scented palms. 

The blonde girl continues to look worryingly into Chaeyoung's eyes as if trying to see right through her soul. "Are you okay?" 

Chaeyoung hesitates and thinks hard with her answer. The thought of breathing the 1998 air and interacting with someone who's probably two decades older than her in real life, sends Chaeyoung into a maze of decisions. 

_ Should I tell her I'm not?  _ Then Dahyun would keep asking more questions and Chaeyoung honestly can't handle any more. 

_ Should I ask her about everything?  _ Then Dahyun would be weirded out. 

_ Should I just hit my head again until I die because maybe dying in this year is the solution to getting mom's happiness?  _ Then Dahyun would be traumatized for life. 

_ I am left with no choice then.  _

"Uh...yeah...sorry about that…" Chaeyoung retracts her face from Dahyun's hold. She runs a hand through her jet black shoulder-length hair, fixing it in place. "I have...anxiety issues…"

The worry in Dahyun’s eyes remains the same albeit now softening a little bit more. Her hand finds Chaeyoung’s and she holds it tight. “That’s okay, Chaeyoung…”

Chaeyoung can’t explain how she feels a smile tracing the curves of the girl’s lips through her soft, reassuring tone. That elicits a small smile from her as well.

It’s partially not a lie, Chaeyoung’s “excuse”.

The realization that she’s just traveled twenty-one years ago is a lot to reel in; her mind can handle only so much. At the back of it is also another thought she’d very much not entertain yet: figuring out the reason behind traveling to the time she  _ wasn’t _ born yet.

Although there’s already a enormous explanation imprinted in bold letters and smacked right at the center of her flipped mind (Chaeyoung thinks  _ of course _ it’s because Nayeon’s real happiness was during the times Chaeyoung  _ wasn’t _ born yet), a small portion of Chaeyoung’s internal thoughts like to think there’s a different intention behind traveling to the year before she was unfortunately birthed into the world.

(Chaeyoung thinks finding out the reason is her mission in this year.)

Dahyun offers the tour again as a time to breathe and loosen up. Chaeyoung takes the suggestion and they begin walking out of the alleyway.

Chaeyoung is soon welcomed to the world of modern day 1998.

***

The weather is perfect for an afternoon training session. The clouds cover the scorching sun’s blaring rays just enough for the skies to gray a little.

There are girls scattered around the place. Some are on the field doing exercises while the others are by the benches, tying shoe laces or braiding hairs, discussing David Beckham’s engagement at the latest issue of Bop magazine.

No one would have a single thought that these girls were members of the undefeated school soccer team, the Apgujeong High Eagles, led by the season MVP and aspiring college athletic scholar, Yoo Jeongyeon.

“Jeong!”

When she hears Hirai Momo’s voice echoing through the field, she sees the co-captain making a run for it and approaching her from the benches. She’s already clad in her training attire—running shorts and a tank top with the greatest goalkeeper of all time Lee Woonjae’s name printed on the back—and upon arriving in front of Jeongyeon, she’s breathless and panting.

“Jihyo…just…” Momo tries to utter in between jagged breaths, grasping Jeongyeon’s shoulder for balance.

Jeongyeon patiently tries to decipher every word. “Jihyo just what…?”

“…Dropped by…and….she…” Momo takes a deep breath. “Wow! I really shouldn’t have run…” 

“No kidding.”

“Anyways!” Momo gasps and lets go of Jeongyeon’s shoulder. “She dropped by earlier, asking for you.”

It’s amazing how fast Momo has gotten her breathing together. Then again, she isn’t the squad’s most athletic and physically fit member for nothing.

“Did she say why?”

Momo shakes her head.

Behind them, a whistle is blown. All heads peer to the appearance of Coach Solji, clad in her favorite Missy-Elliot-wannabe tracksuit. Beside her is Assistant Coach Hani talking to one of the boys from the AV club setting up the Denon Dm3.

“Alright, girls! In place!”

The entire squad quickly disregards all other unnecessary endeavors and aligns themselves in front of the championed coach.

“Yoo! Hirai!” Coach Solji shouts from the other side of the field. Jeongyeon waves her hand to acknowledge the older woman. “Get your ass here! Now!”

“Aye, aye, Coach!” Jeongyeon makes a show of saluting before turning to her friend. “You lead the jogging first. I’ll just go change.”

Momo nods and jogs back to the team. Jeongyeon watches as quick greetings are exchanged before dashing off to the locker room.

When Ace of Base’s The Sign starts playing, signaling the beginning of the morning runs around the field, the entire team starts jogging along the beat of the reggae pop song—as per weird tradition of the championed soccer team.

***

The concept of privacy had long vanished when the abundantly-funded school board decided to provide all the athletes of same sex one locker room and shower area for the sake of convenience and a save of space in the expansive private school.

It wasn’t much of a big deal, really—the entire cheerleading team’s breakdown counted out from the picture—most of the female athletes preferred bathing in the entire catalogue of Gap fragrances without the boys exaggerating their disgusted reactions and comments every now and then.

Although some of the girls—the cheerleaders, to be exact—battled for a  _ separate _ locker room and shower area (when that didn’t work, they vied for separate and enclosed shower stalls instead), in the end, a negotiation was made on the grounds of the damn cheerleaders’ sanity and a timetable was created by the all-knowing student council president, Park Jihyo.

Captain of the Girls’ Soccer Team Yoo Jeongyeon absolutely  _ begs _ to differ.

Everyone knows Jihyo only made that stupid schedule because Cheerleading Captain and manipulative bitch Im Nayeon is her best friend. God knows Park Jihyo is too spineless for Satan’s spawn who— _ in verbatim _ —“don’t want to have anything to do with the league of teenage dirtbags”.

Even the effort in ambiguity is half-assed. The whole goddamn school knows Im Nayeon doesn’t care about the soccer team. She only hates their team captain.

(The reason?

Jeongyeon would rather chug down an entire bottle of Gap’s Heaven perfume, in all its dryer sheets and teen spirit glory, than answer.)

It’s partially because the compromise isn’t even working in the satanic girl’s favor. Jeongyeon credits Jihyo for that. The girl, despite being wrapped around Nayeon’s fingers, still has the ability to be fair, no matter how many immature whining she gets from her best friend (Jeongyeon had to witness it firsthand).

It’s not Jeongyeon’s fault if the soccer team’s practice ran the same schedule as the cheerleading team’s. As if she enjoys her current predicament…

Nothing is fun when you have to hold back your breath and try to remain unnoticed as much as possible upon entering the locker room to avoid the leers and annoying chattering of the daily school gossip.

It’s  _ definitely  _ annoying especially now when Jeongyeon has to move twice as fast or else she’ll be facing another round of sprinting around the field if she’ll be late for training.

_ That new transfer kid just had to arrive late… _

Jeongyeon frowns even more at the thought of the new kid the headmistress of the dorm had asked her to tour around. If the midget-on-drugs didn’t have to be late and hanging around some alleyway then Jeongyeon wouldn’t have had to run around looking for her and wasting time.

_ Thank God for Dahyun. _

Now that she was able to temporarily set aside midget duty, all Jeongyeon has to survive for this entire day is the dreadful obligatory interaction with the cheerleaders during training. They have to talk about the stupid routine Nayeon came up with that required the soccer team’s participation.

Jeongyeon just has to keep her ears to herself as she scurries through the bunch of girls in the locker room, in only their undergarments, bathing themselves in the ridiculous cologne before changing into their training attires, singing Turbo’s Black Cat Nero at the top of their lungs.

There’s no need to mind the scrutinizing looks some of the girls throw at her. God knows after that incident yesterday, the rumors about  _ Yoo Jeongyeon being a Dyke! _ is already the trending topic in every hallway gossip.

Jeongyeon makes it through and reaches her locker at the end of the column. She opens it with her combination and pretends not to hear the incoherent murmuring of the cheerleaders who don’t even try  _ at all _ hiding the fact that they’re talking about the soccer captain.

Just when Jeongyeon thought she’d get through it, in the middle of pulling out her training clothes, she hears  _ it. _

The familiar sound of an ear-piercing foghorn resonates around the locker room, bitchy and grating.

“So what if she used to be captain?”

Im Nayeon’s voice is distinguishable even in a crowd and with Turbo getting shouted around. Satan desires to be noticed naturally.

(Jeongyeon will not admit to this but she feels lured to eavesdrop)

“They probably danced in long skirts and knitted sweaters back in Japan.” Nayeon lets out a deriding scoff before slamming a locker door close.

Jeongyeon hears another voice—it’s Sana Minatozaki, co-captain of the cheerleading team—but she doesn’t get to understand anything more. Nothing gets comprehended in her mind, not when she knows deep in her heart what Im Nayeon is talking about. Rather,  _ who. _

_ It’s about the incident. _

Any cloud of proper judgment has dissipated and is replaced by streaks of red and the urge to put a manipulative bitch in place.

Jeongyeon slams her locker close, the metal door making a loud clanging sound. All attention is drawn to her—as if the scrutiny could get worse—as she marches to the other side of the locker area where she finds Im Nayeon at, seated on the locker room bench and clad in running shorts and a sports bra, tying her hair back in a sleek high ponytail, back turned towards Jeongyeon.

Sana Minatozaki stands beside her, adorned in a perfectly-coordinated black tank top and running shorts. She’s leaning her side on one of the lockers but is immediately pulled to a proper stand at the sight of the soccer team captain approaching.

“Jeongyeon…”

But Jeongyeon fails to notice her. All her attention is on the spiteful Im Nayeon, hissing at her, “What the fuck, Im?”

Nayeon finishes tying up her hair before craning her neck to face the  _ unwanted _ visitor, sporting a cocked brow and a lopsided smirk. “Eavesdropping much, Yoo?”

Jeongyeon is the least fazed by the familiar Im Nayeon Grin™.

“Stay her out of this, Im.” It’s laced with enough venom but Nayeon has always been known for her spectacular ability to be mean and unaffected. 

The cheerleader stands up slowly from the bench. She takes carefully calculated steps towards Jeongyeon, and with every inch gone, the soccer captain finds herself feeling her angel simmer even more.

The scent of overpowering metallic notes combined with aquatic greenness and the pungent odor of pure masculinity fill Jeongyeon’s nostrils, inducing a scratchy throat within a second of being in Im Nayeon’s space.

(At the back of her mind, Jeongyeon condemns herself for knowing why Nayeon smells like this)

Nayeon makes sure only a few inches separate her burning gaze from Jeongyeon’s face.

“What’ll you do about it, Yoo?” A scoff escapes the cheerleader’s lips.

Jeongyeon feels frozen in place, ironic as to how she feels burning inside. “Don’t even dare, Im. I swear to  _ god _ I will  _ end _ you if you ever lay your dirty fingers on—…”

“ _ Who _ , Jeongyeon?” The lopsided smirk comes, and Nayeon is challenging Jeongyeon as she takes another dangerous step forward. “On that ballerina of yours?”

Jeongyeon  _ almost _ riskily lunges forward.  _ Almost. _

“Cut the tension, girls”, Park Jihyo’s voice comes in, unyielding and authoritative. Both heads peer over to her direction as she stands beside Sana, arms crossed over her chest.

The smirk on Nayeon’s face doesn’t come off. “What are you doing here, Jihyo?”

Jihyo snorts at the use of the bitchy tone at her. “Principal wants you  _ two _ in his office. Now.”

Jeongyeon frowns at the fact that Nayeon doesn’t dare step away from her space—and also because of Jihyo’s sudden notice. “What is it this time? I have training, Ji.”

“Just follow me.” Jihyo turns around and begins walking out of the locker room.

Jeongyeon follows immediately behind, quickly getting out of the pungent smell of good ol’ college sex and Davidoff Cool Water within Im Nayeon’s space.

Satan follows shortly behind, not ridding herself off the signature Im Nayeon Grin™.

***

Principal Park’s office smells like a combination of sweat and rotten grilled cheese sandwich. The treadmill set up beside his desk explains the reeking stench of midlife existential crisis. The sandwich? Jeongyeon watches with a contorted face as Principal Park chews on it disgustingly in front of her.

There are four chairs placed in front of the principal’s desk, arranged in pairs and in two rows. Jeongyeon is seated in front, beside Im Nayeon with her leg crossed on top of the other. Jihyo sits behind the cheerleader, as per Principal Park’s surprising request for her to stay.

As disgusting as it is to watch the Principal gnaw on the stupid sandwich, Jeongyeon would rather stare at it than to confront the elephant in the room.

This sudden meeting is obviously about the incident. The presence of the quiet girl seated behind the soccer captain is enough to say.

Principal Park finishes his sandwich first before uncrossing his legs and discarding the foil by the trash bin, attempting to do a trick shot but failing miserably so.

“Okay, girls”, he speaks through a mouthful of masticated grilled cheese sandwich. “I apologize deeply for interrupting your schedules by asking you all to show up here and--…”

“Cut to the chase, Mr. Park.” Nayeon—expectedly—cuts off the man’s greeting with a deadpanned expression. “I still have a squad to lead.”

Jeongyeon stifles a snort when Principal Park doesn’t attempt to hide the way the cheerleader frightens him. He immediately sits up on his chair and swallows down his sandwich.

“As I was saying, I called you four here because of the alarming incident with Miss Yoo’s—…”

“Hold up”, Nayeon,  _ again _ , interjects. Now her face contorts into a definite scowl. “If this is about her then why are you holding me captive in this…reeking office of yours?”

Principal Park tries to tame Satan down. “Miss Im, with all due respect, this also affects--…”

“Me? I don’t think so.” Nayeon shakes her head. “I have nothing to do with Yoo Jeongyeon’s identity crisis, Mr. Park.”

“What the  _ fuck _ ?” 

Jihyo sits back behind the two girls, watching the scene unfold before her in complete passiveness—unlike the quiet girl beside her.

Nayeon remains seated, undaunted. “What?” She makes sure her eyes meet Jeongyeon’s, just as powerful. “I don’t give any  _ fucks _ about whatever you do with Miss Goody-two-shoes here, Yoo.”

That’s the last nail to Jeongyeon’s coffin. “First of all, Satan,  _ you  _ were the one who went around spreading rumors about me when you had absolutely  _ no right _ to in the first place! You’re attention-seeking ass just  _ can’t _ get satisfied by the college dick you’re getting, huh!?”

Nayeon finally jolts up, equally rivalling Jeongyeon’s burning gaze. “ _You_ _didn’t_ …”

“What? Are you offended by the truth?” Jeongyeon taunts. “Your loser college boyfriend just can’t satisfy your needs, now you take fun in ruining other people’s lives? Do you  _ not _ understand how many innocent  people you’re hurting?”

“Innocent?” Nayeon glances at the quiet girl beside Jihyo. “You call her innocent?” She scoffs. “Everyone  _ knows _ Mina Myoui is only here to get some--…”

“STOP IT! BOTH OF YOU!”

The two girls are immediately silenced by the loud voice coming from the man before them who has now acquired the courage to stand in between the intense confrontation.

“I have called all of you in because of this matter, to tell you all that the board has decided to  _ temporarily _ withdraw you from your athletic teams and organizations and have you disciplined for such immature behavior!”

Jihyo is shocked by the back. Partially because this is the first time she’s ever heard their Principal sound so educated, and partially because, if she’s not mistaken, the principal just suggested that she’s involved in the incident.

“Excuse me?” The student council president, unlike her two friends, comes in between politely. “' _ We' _ are temporarily removed from our clubs?”

Nayeon and Jeongyeon are suddenly quiet now. 

Jihyo takes the initiative to seek clarification. “You can’t remove the student body president! That’s like, removing someone’s brain!”

“Not necessarily removing, Miss Park. We are considering a  _ break _ for you.”

“The school festival is a few months away, Principal Park!”

The man snaps his fingers, as if Jihyo just solved the final clue to a puzzle. “That’s exactly what we want you all to do.”

Nayeon is livid. “You want us to fucking do the school festival?”

Principal Park shakes his head. “The art department is lacking in performers for the show. Less performers, less watchers; less watchers, no profit. And the school is providing a huge budget for the festival, we can’t afford to--…”

“Just cut to the chase, Mr. Park!” Nayeon snaps.

Principal Park clears his throat. “The...the school board saw the opportunity and decided to not give you all disciplinary sanctions. S-Such would tarnish all of your college applications and...and we don’t want that so—…”

“Mr. Park!”

“SO WE DECIDED TO HAVE YOU ALL PREPARE A GROUP PERFORMANCE FOR THE FESTIVAL INSTEAD! THERE! YOU HAVE IT!” 

Principal Park wipes streaks of sweat down his forehead. 

He makes an offhand comment at how he should stop being so intimidated by the younger generation, and both Jeongyeon and Nayeon would have gladly quipped at that if only they weren’t dumbfounded themselves. 

The entire room is suddenly dead silent.

Principal Park takes this opportunity to explain the decision. 

The school festival is one of the institution's most important celebrations, where a big portion of the school events budget is saved for. It used to be one of the most festive weeks in the school calendar, until the national sports association shifted a few of the sports events' schedules, colliding with the school festival, and ultimately, most students preferred watching the opposite sex in tight-fitting tank tops running in the field, sweating in all their glory. 

The school festival had been, for the lack of better term, forgotten. With the budget getting wasted, the art department–who did all the organizing–had to do something. Improving themes and upgrading events weren't enough. 

When the art department had gotten a whiff of  _ the incident _ a few days ago regarding the girls' soccer team captain, the new pretty transferee, and the most popular girl in the campus, the cheerleading captain, any decision to put down a disciplinary sanction had been on-hold. The art department quickly suggested to take the matter into their own hands and simply offer a compromise where both the students and the school would benefit to. 

Yoo Jengyeon is the school's most awarded athlete. A disciplinary sanction would tarnish her college applications for a scholarship. 

Im Nayeon is in the Dean's list and is vying for graduation honors to shine in Law school. Graduate honors aren't opened for students with a blemish on their records. 

Getting the two most talked-about students to perform at the talent show would surely attract viewership ratings and soon, more profit for the school. 

The school board will temporarily hold the athletes out from their respective leagues  _ until  _ they agree to the negotiation made and do the talent show. If not then they're left with  _ permanent _ removal.

Schedules will be tweaked a little for the two athletes to be accommodated. All they have to do is form some sort of group to be able to perform at the school festival talent show, make their own routine, run a few practices here and there, and attract a large group of the student body to watch the performance.

That's it. 

Principal Park smiles, content. "Easy, right?" 

Nayeon, Jeongyeon, Jihyo, and Mina  _ beg  _ to differ. 

"What the–…"

Nayeon finishes it for Jihyo. " _ Fuck!"  _ She slams her palms on the wooden desk, making the Principal flinch. "Are you seriously threatening to remove us from our teams just to be, what, your student performers?!" 

Jeongyeon, for the first time in her entire life, is agreeing to Nayeon's side. "This is coercion! You can't force us to do something against our will!"

"The loser's right!" Still, Nayeon manages to deride Jeongyeon amidst the bigger problem. "I am  _ not _ stooping that low and joining a league of teenage dirtbags!"

"You!" Nayeon's voice is unyieldingly condescending, moreso now that she's talking to Mina Myoui. "Isn't your father some kind of lawyer?" 

"My mom…" Mina tries to correct but her voice is too soft for an overpowering Nayeon.

"Tell them this is a form of coercion and we're minors—…"

Jeongyeon, though, finds the situation ironically amusing. "Funny how you're suddenly looking into the law as a minor when you're seeing a college asshole who–…"

"Shut it, Yoo." Nayeon cuts off with a narrowed glare at the soccer captain. "If it weren't for your dyke ass we wouldn't be here in the first place."

"My  _ what _ ?" 

"Okay, that's enough!" Jihyo interjects between the two girls–physically and verbally–before things get worse  _ again _ . "Both of you shut up! We're in this mess because  _ you", _ she turns to her best friend, "Just can't mind your own damn business! And you", then to Jeongyeon, "Because you just  _ had  _ to work your way around Mina!" 

Jeongyeon flinches at the words. She sees Mina look down behind Jihyo. "What are you–…"

"Us getting into this mess wasn't done with singular effort, this was collective! Both of you just couldn't get it together and now whoever gets dragged into this stupid group we're about to make is collateral damage!" Jihyo looks visibly done and rattled, everyone in the room is shaken. 

"So shut it, both of you! You got us into this mess now take responsibility for it! I will _ not _ let your immature asses ruin what I have worked hard for! Now if we need to do this damn group, we will do this damn group!"

The entire room falls silent for a few moments. Jihyo takes this time to take a breath after pouring her entire heart out. 

The tension is there, creeping into every crevice of each girl whose minds are occupied on their own. Jeongyeon frankly thinks Jihyo's version of a "pep talk" has knocked at least a miniscule of sense into Im Nayeon's mind. 

Principal Park hasn’t dismissed them yet, but Jeongyeon doesn’t plan on bathing in the stench of sweat and grilled cheese sandwich. 

When she walks over to the door, she makes sure she bumps into Nayeon’s shoulder. 

Principal Park lets her leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a sucker for the 90s


	3. chaeyoung's mom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dahyun nudges her side. She gulps before hissing something along the lines of “We’re dead” that Chaeyoung has only half the mind to understand because most of her senses are too busy comprehending the presence of her mother before her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day 7 in quarantine and i finished chap 3 :) please enjoy!!

Warmth touches Im Nayeon's skin as streaks of light bulldoze through heavily-shut lids, sleep ebbing away from her mind slowly. With her left arm tangled in an awkward way underneath her stomach, Nayeon stretches out her other arm and reaches for the alarm clock on her bedside nightstand—only to be left fishing for nothing but an empty surface. 

Nayeon’s eyes immediately shoot open. The walls are religiously decorated with posters of Michael Jordan and she is pressed against someone else’s backside, on a single bed with an awful dark blue plaid bedspread. 

Beams of light peek through the cracks of the window blinds, dust particles blissfully floating in the stuffy air of the small, crowded room. 

The first thing Nayeon does is look for her Motorola. She digs through the thick duvet, searching and immediately eliciting a grunt from her bed warmer except it’s him who owns the room and not Nayeon.

“Hmm...stop moving”, he groans and pulls the covers to himself, leaving the stuffy air enshrouding the entirety of Nayeon’s bare body. 

She barely feels concerned for her boyfriend’s need for slumber, however. He absolutely doesn’t have the right to act dead and feel this exhausted when it was Nayeon who did all the work last night. 

The accumulation of frustration over her missing phone, the same ol’ lackluster sex, and her arrogant deepshit boyfriend causes Nayeon to burst. 

“Move it!” She shoves the naked guy aside to dig through the covers. “Where’s my Motorola!?” 

The only response she gets is her boyfriend’s snoring. Nayeon should’ve figured her boyfriend is the last man in the world to care about morning-after’s. 

Nayeon rolls off the bed and falls on the dirty carpeted floor with a grunt. Woo Dohwan’s roommate is still gone for the day--or he might have decided to leave early when he saw a naked girl in their dorm, whichever it is--Nayeon is grateful she finds her clothes still scattered on the floor, untouched. 

She picks each clothing up and heads to the bathroom for a quick shower. It’s 9 in the morning but she still has an afternoon training with the squad and it’s more than an hour’s worth of travelling to get back to school. 

The first thing Nayeon does in the bathroom is examine herself in the mirror. She searches for any evidence of her boyfriend's potential neglect of their "no strawberry tattoos" agreement last night. (She is definitely not considering the option of wearing a shirt later to training. Not under this scorching April heat)

Nayeon hops into the shower after finalizing the absence of any hickeys. She grabs a dash of whatever soap is present and immediately begins scratching and scrubbing off all the corners and crevices Dohwan has laid a finger on. 

As nails scrape against moist skin, water running down sleep-mussed hair and a limp body, Nayeon can’t help but let out a resigned sigh.

The three walls and the curtain feel suffocating, as if they’re pushing her to the corner of the shower area. Something about the life she’s living feels wrong. 

When Dohwan had called her over last night, Nayeon came running after training. She was sweaty and all over the place and it had never been her thing to feel so sticky. She opted to take a shower at her boyfriend's dorm and just drop all of her things, but the moment the door was opened for her, a loud thud resonated at the collision and it wasn't her bag and the floor. It was her pressed up against the wall. 

Nayeon had never felt so disgusted of herself. 

_Screw training._ Nayeon turns the knob and grabs her towel. _Fuck everything._

She gets out of the shower and changes into her clothes from last night, the godawful masculine stench of her boyfriend clinging into the fabric and every inch of her skin. 

_Whatever._

Dohwan's still asleep when Nayeon steps out of the bathroom. He's still unconscious when Nayeon leaves. She makes sure to slam the door close on her way out.

(She also remembers, an hour into her bus ride back, she doesn’t have a Motorola.) 

***

The Minatozaki house is the biggest in the town. It's distinguishable by its western design, both exterior and interior. The house is bright in white, with tall roman columns in the front step. It’s pretty much the Japanese version of Cher’s house in Clueless. Its inhabitants, The Minatozaki's, are just as western and extravagant as their mansion.

Because of this, Sana Minatozaki is one of the most popular and envied students in the school. Her parents are cool enough to let her do everything she wants and give her anything she asks for. They got Sana a Porsche 968 on her 16th birthday (the party was just as expensive as the car itself) and her closet is overflowing with designer clothes and blazer and skirt sets (enough that Sana never wears the same coordinated set more than once).

Nayeon thinks it's cool. She's friends with someone the same level as her. They’re both just as envied (Nayeon a little more) but sometimes, Nayeon wishes for the things that Sana have. The love and genuine adoration she gets. Her parents watch their performances and cheer her on. Nayeon doesn't even know where her parents are and her grandmother is too old to walk. 

She never will admit it but Nayeon is one of the insurmountable number of people who envy Sana Minatozaki. Because despite her blessings, she's still an angel and everyone likes her. Nayeon is stuck-up and heartless, and she doesn't even have everything to begin with.

When Nayeon arrives at the front step of the Minatozaki house, Sana opens the door at her knock and greets their head cheerleader with a confused smile and sleep-mussed hair. She’s clad in a spaghetti strap dress and fuzzy slippers. Something tells Nayeon she won’t be heading to school late alone.

“What are you doing here?” Sana steps aside to welcome Nayeon in. The grand foyer is heavenly, with its double-high ceiling, crystal chandelier, and the spiral staircase with the carpeted flooring. At the center of the spacious welcoming area is a giant antique vase with beautiful flowers. 

“Do you still have my clothes?”

Sana nods. “It’s upstairs. Why?”

Without even answering, Nayeon heads up the spiral staircase. Unlike the first floor, the second floor has velvet carpet flooring. The hallway walls are adorned with pictures that show a timeline of Sana's life. Nayeon doesn’t even remember taking pictures as a kid. She makes sure she doesn’t linger long enough to feel the budding jealousy again. 

Sana's room is the last door to the right. Her closet is a separate room, second to the last on the same side. That’s where Nayeon enters. 

Sana stands by the door frame, watching as her friend looks through the spare cabinet for her clothes. 

“Were you at his place again?” The tone is familiar. It’s pitiful and it always ends with a resigned sigh. “How many times have we told you not to--...” 

If there’s one thing Nayeon isn’t jealous of, it’s Sana's compassion. Her desire to help everyone’s business is too tiring for someone like Nayeon. Maybe that’s why Sana is referred to as the reincarnation of Mother Teresa and Nayeon, a grapefruitade-snorting bitch majoring in manipulation.

“Talk about something else, Sana.” 

Nayeon finally finds it, the set of clothes she always leaves at her friends’ places in case of emergencies. All the members of the cheerleading team have a set of her randomly-arranged clothes in their houses. Nayeon prays the ones she left at Sana's is _at least_ good enough for school. 

(Sometimes all she leaves is a set with a random Nirvana shirt from her boyfriend’s closet, some baggy pants she acquired from the lost and found, and a pair of old socks, other than her undergarments. Those are definitely not school-worthy)

Nayeon looks through the duffel bag and pulls out a black velvet camisole tank top and a pair of baggy jeans. The disappointment on her face is apparent and Sana reflects the exact same expression. 

“Do you want something else to wear? I can lend you a pair of pants that can go well with--...” 

“No, Satang.” Nayeon only sighs and covers her face in her hands. “I can come up with something to do this.. _.satanic set…_ some justice.” She looks up at her friend by the door frame. “Can I just use your bathroom instead?” 

Sana quietly nods, her eyes overflowing with sympathy, as if Nayeon was the saddest thing to roam around the earth. Honestly, Nayeon _fucking_ hates it. 

The bathroom is directly across Sana's bedroom. It’s decorated with everything granite, a vintage bathtub, a mini chandelier, and baby pink walls. _Very Sana._

Nayeon changes into the cami and the baggy pants. Thankfully, her shoes go well with the streetwear. She looks through the assortment of expensive perfumes and lotions on the shelf by the vanity and picks out a random blue bottle to bathe herself in, to remove every trace of her boyfriend’s touch.

Unfortunately for her, it’s the same scent. 

“Ah, shit.”

Honestly, The amount of fuck-ups she can earn in a day should have a limit. Possibly no one else in this entire world can fuck up the same way she does. How can the universe hate someone so much!?

When Nayeon steps out of Sana's bathroom, it’s to the girl already clad in her “school clothes”, a.k.a. a Chanel cotton tweed coordinated blazer and skirt set finished with leather platforms. She looks every bit the rich girl title she holds while Nayeon looks like a rebellious teenager from the slums who does drugs at the back alley of the school building and dances at the local bar for food money. 

The assumption doesn’t even stray far from the truth. (Except the sex and drugs. Nayeon is just a rebellious headache) 

“Let’s go?” Sana pulls out the keys to her Porsche from the small handbag she brings to school. Nayeon thinks it won’t even fit a pen. 

“Are you in a hurry?” 

“We already missed the morning classes.” Sana shrugs her shoulders. They walk down the hall. “There’s no hurry.” 

In the end, they meet halfway at a plan to just show up for afternoon training instead. 

(Sana may be the perfect girl but her attendance isn’t as clean as her image, and her priorities aren’t as aligned as her straight-rod back. She and Nayeon both think that cheerleading is their life. That’s the only thing where they bond in, aside from being the two most popular girls in school)

***

Sana's car smells like a glorious bottle of Chanel N°5. 

The radio plays a series of songs between Spice Girls and Nirvana, and Sana decides to talk about the schedule of the team pre-competition season with the cheerleading captain, rightfully so.

“I’m going to host a party right before our meet”, Sana takes short glances at the girl by the passenger seat looking out the window. “Call it a season welcoming, you know?” 

Nayeon doesn’t attempt to stifle back her snort. Sana's parties were the “It” event of the school year. She held parties for every possible occasion. 

“Who’s invited?” 

Another thing about the glorified “Sana Minatozaki Party” is her guest list. It’s _always_ strictly VIP only. If you were invited, that meant you were part of the upper class group in the school hierarchy. Anyone who’s _someone_ is invited. 

However, apparently, the “strict” VIP only rule is not “ _always”_ implemented anymore. 

“Anyone who can come”, Sana gleefully answers as she makes a turn at the last stoplight before the street to their school. “I thought it would be better to start the season with everyone present? School spirit and all that…” 

Nayeon _begs_ to differ. “So that means it’s open for the... _public_?”

“Not really. I’ll have the guards only allow students inside.” 

Nayeon is still not liking the idea. “But your parties are only for people like us!” 

Sana throws her a dismayed look. “Come on, Nayeon. It’s time to lift up the school spirit! We need as much as we can, you know. Especially with Crowd Impact on the criteria now and that all-girls public school participating this season.” 

Nayeon rolls her eyes. “Still!”

“Come on. You can bring your boyfriend if you like. Although, I doubt that’s a good idea…” 

Sana finally enters the gates of the school. She navigates the driveway and pulls up into her designated parking space. 

“Why?” Nayeon asks even though she doesn’t have any plans to invite Dohwan to Sana's party. 

Sana turns off the engine and swivels on her seat to face the cheerleading captain. “Because I invited all of the other teams to come.” 

A second passes. Nayeon blinks. “And…?”

“And the soccer team will--...” 

_Oh._ It only dawns on Nayeon then. “NO!” 

“What do you mean ‘No!’?” Sana frowns. “I can’t _not_ invite the only team--aside from us--that’s earning the school medals. Besides, a party isn’t a party if they’re not there!”

“You can invite all the other members _but_ her, Sana! I swear, you can’t invite that–...”

“She’s the team captain, Nayeon. Would you think the team would come without their captain?” 

“You guys went to that roller skate arena without me!” 

Sana awkwardly chuckles. “But that’s a different story…” 

“And this will also be a different story if you invite her! God forbid I stay under the same roof as her, Sana!” Nayeon is flailing on the seat, already exasperated only at the mere thought of it. “It’s like...putting Gwyneth and Brad in the same room!”

That, however, gets Sana pausing a bit. 

“Did you just offhandedly called yourselves exes?” 

Nayeon’s eyes widen in horror. “NO!” She shrieks in utter terror. “What the--what are you talking about, Sana!? It was an analogy!”

Sana stifles back her amusement at the _rare_ sight of the usually-stoic team captain being so vexed and... _affected._ “Okay, okay... breathe.” She opens her door to get off. 

Nayeon rolls her eyes and gets out of the car as well. She leaves the duffel bag with her clothes at the backseat. Sana stares at the bag, knowing well enough what it means. Before the captain can even ask her, she’s already nodding away. “Okay, okay. I’ll have the maid put it in the laundry and put it back in my closet.” 

Nayeon sighs in relief. “Thank you.” 

Sana only frowns at the dysfunctional circumstance. Nayeon’s decision to go dorm-hopping from one friend’s to another instead of the free dormitory services the school provides is beyond her. For someone as smart, Sana is surely questioning the choice made. 

“What did she even do to make you hate her so much?” 

Nayeon slams the door a little too hard. She throws Sana a warning glare. “Not now, Sana.” 

The girl only rolls her eyes and snorts. 

Nayeon begins walking towards the school entrance. Sana strols beside her. The corridors are empty, students still in class. They take the shortcut to the locker rooms and shower area. 

“You remember the tryouts?”, Sana still makes an effort to turn the hallway into a fashion runway with the way she struts in her platforms. “The one you missed because you were at your boyfriend’s?"

Nayeon keeps her eyes straight. 

“That girl–Mina–she was there. She was the only one who didn’t dance to Toni Basil’s Hey Mickey.” Sana chuckles, remembering how she ended up throwing away all of her Toni Basil cassette tapes after that day. 

“She also did a perfect round off, triple back handspring, standing back tuck, ending with a split. All to Whitney Houston’s I Wanna Dance with Somebody.” 

Nayeon doesn't react. She remains steadfast on heading to the locker rooms without having to deal with the hallway monitors. 

Sana continues. "She was perfect. But apparently, I was the only one who thought of that. Because it was only me who voted her in." 

They reach the doors to the field. Some of the soccer girls are already preparing for their training. Nayeon groans. 

"Surprising because everyone was on their feet and applauding after her routine. Jennie told me you gathered everyone and left a memo not to let someone named Mina Myoui in the team. _No matter what._ " Sana clicks her tongue, disappointed at the memory. 

The other girls are already at the locker room changing into their training outfits. Not one girl misses a chance to greet their captains passing by and walking to their lockers. 

"All I'm saying is, it's such a wasted opprtunity and a stupid idea to let your hatred for Yoo Jeongyeon cloud your judgement." Sana begins pulling up her shirt, showing off perfectly-toned abs. "She had an amazing tryout routine, an amazing profile–she was team captain back in her hometown–but because you hated Jeongyeon so much, you had an innocent girl involved. Mina would've made a great flyer!"

Nayeon changes into a more comfortable sports bra and running shorts. She takes a seat on the bench while tying her hair up. "So what if she used to be team captain?" 

Sana only gives her _that_ look. 

"They probably danced in long skirts and knitted sweaters back in Japan." Nayeon scoffs before standing up and slamming her locker door close. 

"Really, Nayeon?" Sana deadpans, clearly unamused because Nayeon's remark just made Japanese cheerleading sound like time has forgotten it, as if Sana wasn't Japanese herself and hailed from a Cheer Union-championed school–one of the many in Japan. 

Nayeon sighs. Clearly, her frustration over a someone who shall not be named is taking over all remnants of rationality in her brain. Any little thing J*ongy*on does makes Nayeon's blood boil, she swears if she sees that woman again, she will punch—

"What the fuck, Im?"

 _Of course._ Of course the universe has chosen this one perfect time to make sure Yoo Jeongyeon is in the same room, hearing coherently how Nayeon is slandering her new girl. 

Nayeon knows Jeongyeon is standing behind her, seering in anger. The tension is thick and everyone in the room knows something is about to go down. 

"Eavesdropping much, Yoo?" 

When Nayeon gradually turns around to face the girl, she is greeted by a contorted expression and a deep frown. Something about makes Nayeon amused. Somehow, it tells how Jeongyeon's effect on her is mutual. 

"Stay her out of this, Im." It's venomous and an obvious warning. Everyone knows not to mess with the varsity girls especially the soccer team captain–with her short hair and that leather jacket she always wears (although now she's sporting the usual uniform and a Benetton)–but Nayeon will _always_ be an exemption to everyone. 

The head cheerleader stands up from the bench and makes sure her steps are well calculated enough for her to end up just a few inches away from Yoo Jeongyeon's space.

Nayeon watches as Jeongyeon stifles back the way her nose scrunches at the traces of cologne in Nayeon's body. It dawns on the soccer girl where the cheerleader has been up all night. 

Jeongyeon frowns even more. 

"What'll you do about it, Yoo?" Nayeon taunts. 

"Don’t even dare, Im. I swear to god I will end you if you ever lay your dirty fingers on—…”

“Who, Jeongyeon?” Nayeon smirks. “On that ballerina of yours?”

Nayeon doesn't have 20/20 vision but it doesn't take much to notice the way Jeongyeon _almost_ lurched forward. Possibly to punch Nayeon (or ram her up the wall). But their budding fight is cut short (unfortunately) by the student council President. 

“Cut the tension, girls”, Jihyo was always one for _perfect timing._

Nayeon just wished she didn’t get it right this time. “What are you doing here, Jihyo?”

The student council President stands a few feet away, arms crossed over her chest, in all the glory of her J. Crew collared jumper and platform sneakers, dark brown hair tied up in a sleek high ponytail, looking every bit the perfect student title that she holds.

“Principal Park wants you _two_ in his office. Now.” 

The smirk on Nayeon’s face is wiped out. “What is it this time? I have training, Ji.”

“Just follow me.” Jihyo turns around and begins walking out of the locker room.

Nayeon is frozen in place, quite taken aback at the tone used on her by her best friend. She isn’t as pleased as well when Jeongyeon steps away from her space and follows behind Jihyo as quickly as she can. 

_She despises me that much, huh?_ Nayeon only scoffs. She makes sure there’s a safe amount of distance between them when she stomps away and follows behind Jeongyeon to Principal Park’s office.

***

If anything, Son Chaeyoung’s desire to abolish the inequality over the educational system is heightened even more by this tour.

Dahyun takes her around the important facilities of the private school and Chaeyoung is enlightened by the apparent difference in the way things are run in an institution with an abundance of financial endowment and a public school with barely enough money to clean the water fountains.

Apgujeong Private School is, without a doubt, the school for disgusting conglomerate heirs and snobby, stuck-up bitches in their black plaid skirts and United Benetton and J. Crew sweaters. Chaeyoung’s school in the present looks worse than Apgujeong High in the 90s.

_What could possibly be worse than that?_

Dahyun began her tour from the anterior of the school: the front driveway. She tells all about the lengthy history of the institution but all Chaeyoung notices are the perfectly-manicured bushes and Bonsai trees, clean-cut grass, the pebbled circular driveway, the ridiculous stone tiered fountain at the center, and the variety of vintage Porsches, Jeeps, and BMWs parked.

They moved to the grand foyer that is just as extravagant as the exterior—if not more—with its double spiral staircases and the humungous crystal chandelier hanging on the ceiling. (Chaeyoung briefly wonders if she can steal it and possibly bring it with her to the present, sell it and use the money to run her own school)

Dahyun then brings her to the main hallway, where they are located at the moment, silent and peaceful with the classes ongoing. The floors are polished porcelain tiles and Chaeyoung can even see her own reflection on them.

Too busy admiring the floors, the smaller girl collides with Dahyun’s frame when the blonde girl halts in her steps and faces a glass showcase.

Chaeyoung stumbles back at the collision, grunting a little.

“Oh, sorry”, Dahyun chuckles, immediately aiding the _slightly_ smaller girl with a soft pat on the head. “I didn’t know you weren’t looking. My bad.”

“No, it’s my fault. Sorry.” Chaeyoung shakes herself into rationality. “Why’d you stop walking, though?”

“To show you this…” Dahyun points to the large glass showcase before them. It’s probably twice Chaeyoung’s height, stuffed with shining plaques and medals, trophies and picture frames of glorified student and athletes. “We’re at the honorary hall of fame.”

Chaeyoung feels her jaw drop. The amount of gold she’s seeing can fund her entire bloodline, and even more.

The showcase lures her in, Chaeyoung taking a step closer to the glass and looking thoroughly through the names and faces permanently stamped to the school’s history.

“Are they all dead?”

Dahyun stands beside her, a normal distance away. “No. Most of the athletes there still go here.” She points at a line of trophies with pictured frames in front. “Those are the soccer teams, the Apgujeong Eagles. They’re one of the most awarded athletic teams in school.”

Chaeyoung looks—ogles—at the faces of triumphant girls in that classic team picture formation, some kneeling in front while the taller ones standing at the back, clad in their dirtied jerseys and exhausted but bright smiles.

“That girl in the center, the one with the trophy”, Dahyun takes a step closer to point specifically. “That’s Jeongyeon unnie. She was the girl you met earlier.”

Chaeyoung darts her focus at the girl Dahyun’s pointing at. She stands bright among the group, with her ash-gray hair tied up in ponytail, in her jersey, with the number 0 in heavy bold and with a line underneath.

“She looks…so cool here…” Chaeyoung can’t help but admire. Even at the picture, the woman still exudes such a powerful aura.

Dahyun nods. “She is. She’s like, Danny Zuko but a girl. And better.”

Chaeyoung laughs at the Grease reference. She can tell by the way this Jeongyeon girl had appeared to her earlier, with the crucifix earrings and the fiery glare.

“This side”, Dahyun moves to the other line of trophies and medals. Chaeyoung follows. “…Is for the _other_ most awarded team, the cheerleading squad. Don’t be deceived, their bright smiles are facades to their reign of terror in school.”

Chaeyoung thinks it’s a joke, but there’s no smile on Dahyun’s face and the girl sounds like she actually means it.

“Wait, you’re serious?” Chaeyoung chokes a little. _Please don’t tell me those manipulative bitches are terrorizing everyone even here…_ “I thought those things only happen on movies and what not…”

Dahyun snorts. “I wish”, she rolls her eyes. “If it weren’t for Jihyo unnie and Jeongyeon unnie, those girls would be running the school relentlessly. Specifically Nayeon. Beware of the Queen.”

There’s a pause there. Chaeyoung’s mind takes the time to short-circuit, going through all the possibilities in the world where she’s landed at the _same_ school as her mother. Other than Nayeon being a cheerleader, Chaeyoung pretty much knew nothing about her mother’s background. She only had her grandmother to live with—Chaeyoung’s great-grandmother—and both of her parents left and never returned—Chaeyoung’s grandparents.

She only blinks fervently at the blonde girl beside her. _Is the universe actually making things easier for me by putting me in the same school as my mom?_

“Is…is her name…‘Im Nayeon’?”

Dahyun turns to her with a surprised face. “Wait, has she dominated your school too?” She rolls her eyes. “Is she _that_ popular?”

_Oh my god._

Dahyun lets out an exasperated sigh. “You know, I’m all for kindness, but Nayeon is just _awful._ You’re lucky you weren’t here earlier enough to get involved with the chaos she made. Jeongyeon unnie _hates_ her for it.”

Chaeyoung is still trying to wrap her mind around everything. “What…what did she do?”

_Oh my god. Is mom still chaotic here?_

“There’s this new girl. She transferred here a few weeks earlier than you. I don’t know the specifics, but Nayeon suddenly started a wild story about the girl being involved with Jeongyeon unnie.”

The distaste in Dahyun’s tone is confusing and disheartening Chaeyoung. Korea is already too conservative for the queer people in the present, what more in the 90s? _Suddenly, I want to go back…_

“Don’t get me wrong, Chae…wait, can I call you that?” Chaeyoung only nods weakly. Dahyun continues, “Anyway, I’m not against it, those who like the same sex, but Nayeon…she didn’t have _any_ right to blatantly let out such personal information? And Jeongyeon unnie’s not even _swinging_ that way!”

There’s a pause before, “…I think so…?”

Dahyun sighs. “And Mina, poor Mina…not even a month into her new school and she’s already the talk of the town…”

Chaeyoung feels a headache creeping in—her normal, innate response to all the chaotic things her mom effortlessly pulls off (before she lost in touch with her daughter and decided that everything else mattered _but her_ ).

“Oh my god, mom…” she carelessly utters, letting out a distressed sigh.

“What did you just say?”

Chaeyoung’s mind short-circuits. _She heard me?!_

“Uh…I mean…Uh…” she scatters her eyes for _anything_ to take her out of this situation, hoping for the universe to still be on her side this time. “I meant…” and then drop-dead beautiful legs come walking down the hallway. “Mom jeans!” 

Dahyun snaps to the direction Chaeyoung’s looking at. Her eyes widen.

Chaeyoung tries to desperately recall her extensive 90s slang lexicon courtesy of all the times she’s watched reruns of Clueless and Can’t Hardly Wait in Netflix.

“ _Mom_ jeans would look totally nice on those _stems_!”

“Excuse me?”

Chaeyoung’s mindless blurting gets her the attention of the owner of the, according to Clueless vernacular, slender and attractive legs.

 _That voice..._ Chaeyoung doesn’t even wait for a second to pass by before she looks up at the face a few steps away.

Dahyun nudges her side. She gulps before hissing something along the lines of, “We’re dead” that Chaeyoung has half the mind to understand because most of her senses are too busy comprehending the presence of her mother before her.

Her _mother_ , the woman who had given birth to her and is the epitome of _every_ embarrassing mom ever, is standing before Chaeyoung, in a sports bra and running shorts, with a waistline that could put Chaeyoung’s own to shame, glaring down at her with a fiery gaze Chaeyoung only ever had been the receiving end of once or twice in her entire life.

“What is this, Jihyo?”

At the mention of her aunt, Chaeyoung immediately shifts her attention to the woman standing behind her mother, clad in a neatly-ironed jumper and the black plaid skirt. _Oh my god. She hasn’t changed…_

Jihyo pulls Nayeon back. “A new student two years our junior, Nayeon. Be nice.”

_Aunt Jihyo is still so cool. And nice._

“Whatever.” Nayeon rolls her eyes and scoffs, pushing past Dahyun and Chaeyoung, Jihyo trailing behind shortly but not after she throws the two younger girls a soft smile.

As soon as Nayeon and Jihyo are out of the way, Dahyun lets out a deep breath. “Oh my god, Chaeyoung! Are you attracted to chaos or something!? I literally just told you to _not_ mess with Nayeon and that’s what you do!”

But Chaeyoung isn’t listening. She’s too busy trying to comprehend the events that just happened to her. She just found out her mother is the school bitch. _The school bitch._ Worse? She just called her mother’s legs hot. Worst? The School Bitch is on to her. Her mother doesn’t like her already.

_Holy shit._

Her mom and aunt—Nayeon and Jihyo, she means—are at the end of the hall, about to make a turn, and Chaeyoung’s still watching them, mouth hanging ajar.

Dahyun scoffs. “Don’t tell me you’re crushing on her, Chaeyoung. That’s dangerous.”

“Ew, what?” Chaeyoung snaps out. “I’m not crushing on--…”

“Good. Because she has a boyfriend.”

“What?”

Dahyun sighs. “She’s dating some college boy Jeongyeon unnie told me is a butthole.”

“An asshole?”

“I don’t condone blasphemies.”

Chaeyoung chuckles because _of course._ Goody-two-shoes doesn’t tolerate profanities.

Dahyun wraps an arm around Chaeyoung’s free one. “Come on”, she pulls her to the other direction of the hall. “We still have one last stop in your tour.”

Chaeyoung lets herself get dragged away. “Where?”

“The dorms.” Dahyun smiles gleefully. “You’re roommates with Jeongyeon unnie.”

***

“That wasn’t nice, you know.” Jihyo walks Nayeon back to her training. “One day the universe will work against your favor and put you and Jeongyeon together to fix your problem with each other.”

Nayeon, honestly, feels a headache creeping in. Everyone has been up at her ass the entire _morning_ and _afternoon_ ; it’s exhausting to have to deal with everything. “Please, Ji. Not now.”

_Not now, Sana._

_Not now, Jihyo._

_When, then?_

_And with who?_

“Nayeon, don’t let out your anger for Jeongyeon to someone innocent. You got Mina involved. Stop there.” Jihyo tries. She tries every time to tolerate Nayeon’s other side because she knows that, at the end of the day, this isn’t her best friend, but it’s hard. It gets tiring too.

“I just…” Nayeon stops at the end of the hall, just before the turn to the doors that lead to the field. She faces Jihyo. “I hate it, Ji. I _hate_ her for doing it to me.”

Jihyo sees the forlorn look on her best friend’s eyes. She feels her heart crumble for the girl. It’s tiring to tolerate this behavior, but sometimes, Jihyo wonders if it’s more tiring putting it up for so long.

She wonders who’s more exhausted between them. At the sad eyes of her best friend, Jihyo knows it’s Nayeon.

“I thought you said no strings attached?”

Nayeon _hates_ it. “I did.”

She hates this.

“Then why are you getting so affected?”

She hates herself the most. For getting so affected.

“I don’t know.”

And for not knowing why.

***

The dorms are situated a few blocks away from the campus. It’s a five-story bricked building with an elevator and a study hall on the roof deck that no one ever uses.

Dahyun carefully explains the rules of the place. This building is strictly for the female students. Each room has the capacity to fit two to three occupiers. The floors have been arranged by year (the freshmen at the first floor so on so forth) but ever since the school had become more lenient, the rule had been abolished and everyone had the liberation to pick out any room on any floor, with the only condition that they stay with someone of the same year.

Chaeyoung is the exemption. Dahyun carefully explains that because she had entered the year a few months late, the only room available was one occupied by two seniors. One of the seniors being Yoo Jeongyeon.

“She scares me, Dahyun.”

Dahyun lets out a laugh as she turns the key and pushes open the door. “Don’t. Unnie is _amazing_ and nice. A little weird sometimes, lame jokes most of the time, but nonetheless”, she makes a like sign with her hand. “She’s good, Chae. You’re in good hands. But do be warned, there’s a reason why this room only has two seniors.”

Lo and behold, a room spacious enough with three beds, one with a patchwork blanket, the middle one a plain white, and the bed by the window with a soft purple cover.

“Wait, you said Jeongyeon unnie. Who sleeps there?” Chaeyoung points at the last bed as they step inside.

Dahyun closes the door behind her. “Like I said, there’s a reason why.”

Chaeyoung supposes her bed is the blank white in the middle. She walks over to it and plops down. “That is?”

“Everyone’s afraid to room here.” Dahyun treads over and sits down beside her.

“You said Jeongyeon unnie wasn’t scary!” Chaeyoung exclaims, aghast and betrayed.

“Not that. They’re afraid because they don’t want to get in between its two occupants.”

“What do you mean?” Chaeyoung’s frown trails away to the neat soft purple bed. There’s a familiar-looking rabbit doll plushy sitting by the pillows.

_That plushy…why have I seen that before…?_

Dahyun gulps down a boulder. She purses her lips towards the soft purple bed. “That’s Nayeon’s bed.”

 _Oh my god. That’s why it looks familiar._ Chaeyoung feels her throat dry up. She remembers the rabbit doll now. It’s on her bed back in the present. _That was mom’s lucky doll._

“Good luck, Chae.” Dahyun sighs, patting Chaeyoung on the back. “If it’s any consolation, my room’s just across yours. I'll take you in when those two are killing each other.”

“Do they hate each other _that_ much?”

“Sometimes I think the word ‘hate’ isn’t even enough.” Dahyun says. “But sometimes, when you look at it from a different perspective, they bicker like a married couple. But with more profanities and death threats exchanged.”

Chaeyoung hates that she’s not nervous, hates that there’s a reassuring complacency in her that it’s her mother she’s rooming with. “What could possibly go wrong, right?” She chuckles.

“ _Everything_ could go wrong.” Dahyun firmly assures her. “Especially with those two. Your stunt earlier with Nayeon wasn’t exactly earning her attention in a good way, even though I don’t think there will ever be a good way with her.”

“I’m sure this won’t be _that_ bad…” Chaeyoung gulps. “…right?”

_It's 1998 for goodness' sake!_

“Wrong.” Dahyun exclaims. “You’re literally rooming with an angel and Satan herself.” She pats Chaeyoung’s shoulders. “You’ve got to be strong on this one, little cub. You’re gonna need all the luck in the world if you want to get out of the school year alive.”

_Oh my god. Will I even make it out of the 90s alive?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all the authors ik have hashtag going on whenever they write fics, and I'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO SEE WHAT U GUYS SAY ABOUT THIS STORY SOOOO??? #Twicein1998 ??? IDK OMG IM AN OLD SOUL HAHA but pls do leave comments when u can! i always love reading them :))


	4. detention club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This looks like the Korean version of the Breakfast Club but with more drama and damage, with misfits from not-so different aspects of life–each just as damaged as the other–gathering in one room for detention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title was supposed to be "queen beryl and the sailor scouts" but changed halfway into the writing process ahaha it became a reference to the 1985 breakfast club ;)

"Im Nayeon, you cruel bitch!" 

A whiff of expensive Chanel mixed with sweat and wasted vigor blows into Nayeon's space. The squeak in Jennie's voice is amusement to her ears as she holds up the stopwatch and eyes the girls breathlessly running up and down the bleachers. 

"Three more minutes!" Nayeon reminds them, watching the numbers count down. "Jennie, you're gonna lose that thigh gap if you don't move it!" 

That earns her a hot red, freshly-manicured middle finger from the flyer. Sana throws Nayeon a dismayed look when their eyes meet for a brief second before she runs up the flight of bleachers again. Even the co-captain doesn't escape the captain’s wrath.

Nayeon turns around and faces the squirming bunch of _babies_ seated on the grass and watching. “This is just the warm-up, girls.” Nayeon smirks. “If you can keep up all night with your boyfriends then maybe you can keep up with my training as well.” 

The girls are a bunch of freshmen who have “passed” the tryouts, according to Im Nayeon’s criteria. 

They were all-smiles when they arrived at the field one by one. Little did they know, they’re frontlining themselves to doom by joining the squad, blinded by the misconception that being in the cheerleading team will be the highlight of their high school lives. That it will earn them a one-way VIP ticket to the top of the social hierarchy. 

It’s not a wrong idea, per se. It’s just the tip of the iceberg. Before they can enjoy the privileges of being in the team, Im Nayeon will make sure they all get to face her first--the biggest obstacle to their ambitious dreams. 

The stopwatch beeps into Nayeon’s hand. She turns to the girls at the top of the bleachers. “Time’s up!” 

A series of curses are shouted to their hearts’ content. The girls in workout leggings, knee-length spandex, and baby sports bras catch their breaths first before jogging down to the field. 

Sana is clutching on her knees for balance. Jennie is looking up, trying to avoid the blood from rushing to her head. 

“What the...HA...fuck was...HA...that!?” 

Nayeon doesn’t hold back her lopsided smirk at the breathless girl. “Just showing these chicks how we run things here, Jen.” 

“Yeah?” Jennie takes a deep breath to stabilize her rapid heart. “Then why the fuck were we your test objects!?”

“I was showing them how fit my team was…” Nayeon rolls her eyes, uttering, “Apparently, I was wrong.” 

She plasters a wide smile on her face when she turns to the _kids_. “Okay, it’s your turn.” 

A girl in a tie-dye shirt with her hair tied up too high on her head raises her hand. _Polite_ , Nayeon makes a mental note on that. 

“Yes?” 

“Uh...will we be...running up the bleachers too? Miss?” 

“Well--..” 

Jennie rests her arm on Nayeon’s shoulder, catching the leader off-guard. “‘Miss’?” She snorts. “You’re too polite to the devil, hon. Why don’t you call her ‘The Devil’s Mistress’ or, like”, she chuckles to herself. “‘Beelzebub’ instead.” 

“Thank you for the history lesson, Jen, but the girls won’t be needing it.” Nayeon pushes off Jennie’s arm on her shoulder and turns to the kids, flashing them a wide, almost-menacing grin. “For now, at least.” 

She resets the stopwatch on her hold. “Ten minutes. Sprints. Now.” 

In one flash, the girls are already up on their feet and running up and down the bleachers in disarray, before Nayeon could even press the stopwatch’s start button. 

Sana appears behind the team captain, sweaty and carrying around her water jug. “Why are you being extra mean today?” 

Nayeon doesn’t face her. “What are you talking about?”

They both watch the girls grunt and curse as they run for their lives, up and down the bleachers, like chickens being chased.

“Is it about what Principal Park told you?” 

Nayeon remains wordless. A kid in a neon green oversized shirt almost trips and hits her head on the bench.

Sana takes one last swig at her water jug before capping it off. “Or is it about Yoo Jeong–...”

“Coach is here!” Someone exclaims. By the low-pitched voice, Nayeon guesses it's Kim Jisoo. 

Nayeon presses the stopwatch. “Stop!” She shouts at the new girls before jogging over to their approaching coach. 

Ahn Hyojin is even more intimidating in her hot pink tracksuit and the lanyard with the golden whistle that she soon blows shortly alongside her arrival, to catch everyone’s attention. 

“Im Nayeon!” She greets with her big-shot laugh that makes her sound more like an overweight football coach than a multi-awarded former-cheerleader-turned-cheerleading-coach. “I was just looking for you. I wanted to talk to you about something.” 

Nayeon stands collected even after jogging half a field to greet the coach. “What about, coach?"

“Two things”, She holds up her thumb and index, firm with each step towards the team gathered by the bleachers. "One: word has reached me that you have denied the team a potential flyer?” 

A dip forms in between Nayeon’s brows. “What do you–...” 

“And two”, Coach Hyojin doesn’t let her finish. “This will be your last training with the team. _Temporarily_ , of course.” 

Nayeon freezes on her steps, mouth hanging ajar. The older woman continues walking without her, jogs even, until she stops halfway through. 

“I decided to use this opportunity and have someone take your place!” Hyojin blurts out, hands at the side of her mouth to project her voice louder amidst the throng of breathless shouts from the soccer team’s practice and the blasting H.O.T background music. 

(Nayeon could hear her even without it) 

Unfortunately, the entire field chooses to silence down the exact moment Coach Hyojin decides to shout at the top of her middle-aged lungs, all blissfully and carefree, “Mina Myoui will be arriving later!” 

As if the universe couldn't get even more fucked up, it does just so. 

***

"Okay, girls, five minute water break!" 

Yoo Jeongyeon manages to exclaim in between her own jagged breaths, after twenty rounds of the ladder with the entire team. 

The younger members all scurry to their jugs by the bleachers, plopping down on any solid surface and chugging their bottles empty as if they were dehydrated explorers stranded at a desert and have only managed to find an oasis after days of no water. 

"You have to stop geeking out on sci-fi movies, Jeong", Momo appears out of nowhere with her water bottle. She wraps a sweaty arm around her best friend's shoulders. "Every reference you make has you sounding like a hormonal teenage boy jerking off Princess Leia in Star Wars."

Jeongyeon playfully shrugs her friend's arm off with an incredulous scoff. "Since when were you old enough to make snide remarks on my sci-fi life?" 

"Since you started playing with my secret lightsabers!" 

"Ha!" She turns to her friend, pointing-finger out and aghast. "Who's the nerd now, huh?" 

The two coolest girls at the campus are secretly a pair of dorks who watch Star Wars in their free time. 

Momo falls into a pit of laughter, clutching her stomach. Jeongyeon does the same, enjoying how her co-captain is also her best friend. 

All the other new kids in the team admire their seniors from the bleachers, feeling lucky they didn't frontline themselves into war by trying out for the cheerleading squad who, from the other side of the field, looks like they're about to die and fall off the bleachers they're running up and down on. 

A whistle is blown, signalling the end of the five-minute water break. Coach Solji shouts at the senior girls to help the newbies with some footwork, all the while assistant Coach Hani begins blasting H.O.T's Candy in the speakers. 

Jeongyeon chooses two petite new girls–one named Yeji and the other Lia–and is about to join them in doing cone snakes until Coach Solji calls for her by the sides.

The captain excuses herself before jogging over to the statuesque Missy Elliot-tracksuit-wearing woman. "Yes, coach?"

They're standing a ruler away from each other and Coach Solji is already saying something, yet all Jeongyeon can hear is Tony Ahn's part in Candy and all the other girls' breathless off-tune singing in the background.

"Come again, coach?" The captain inches closer. 

Coach Solji, however, is busy looking somewhere else. Jeongyeon follows the direction of her intense gaze and stifles back a shit-eating grin when it lands on the sight of Coach Hyojin, the cheerleading squad's coach, talking to none other than the Queen Bitch herself, Im Nayeon.

By the looks of it, the conversation doesn't seem to be going well because Im Nayeon is frozen on her steps and Coach Hyojin is springing on her feet, continuously walking away.

"I don't think they're hearing each other well…" Coach Solji holds her hand up to signal something and Jeongyeon looks over her shoulders to see Coach Hani scramming on her feet, tuning H.O.T down. 

The intention behind such actions was clearly to help the two hear each other but Coach Solji's attempt to woo the cheerleading coach (rumors have been going around about a certain soccer coach crushing on the cheerleading coach) is left futile because all of a sudden, the entire field hears it when Coach Hyojin shouts, "Mina Myoui will be arriving later!" 

Jeongyeon, honestly, can't hear anything else after that. 

Im Nayeon must feel the same because she’s also stuck on her foot, frozen in place. 

“Yoo!” Coach Solji snaps her fingers in front of her team captain’s face. “Yoo? Did you hear what I said?” 

Jeongyeon shakes her head into consciousness. “Uh...what was that again, coach?” 

_Mina is going to replace Nayeon?_

“I said this is going to be your last training with the team…” Coach Solji says too indifferently, as if losing the team’s most prized player isn’t a _big_ deal. She blows her whistle next to Jeongyeon’s ear, but the piercing noise suddenly can’t compare to the ringing inside Jeongyeon’s mind.

“W-What…?” 

Coach Solji shouts at a newbie doing the ladder the wrong way and then proceeds to nonchalantly explain to the absentminded team captain all about Principal Park’s immediate notice to remove both her and Im Nayeon from their current teams to make time for any talent show preparation. 

Jeongyeon’s comprehension skills may not be the highest in the school--heck, the only reason she’s getting an athletic scholarship is because she has mediocre grades but an exceptional skill in midfielding--but it shouldn’t take that much effort for her to understand what the coach just said, right?

The phrases “last training with the team” and “to make way for your talent show performance”, are proving Jeongyeon just how stupid she is, in so many humiliating ways possible. 

As if the world couldn’t get more horrible, as if Jeongyeon’s whole damn world couldn’t get more rattled, a familiar figure appears from the dugout, clad in high-waist running shorts and a tank top, silky dark brown hair tied up in a perfect ponytail with small strands framing her face, and a gym bag hanging on one shoulder. 

“Oh look, here she is!” Coach Hyojin from the cheerleading team exclaims gleefully, smiling widely at a direction behind Nayeon. Now that the entire football field is silenced down, everyone is able to hear it when she shouts, “Mina!” 

The moment everyone hears the name, the air stills around the entire football field. 

(It’s no secret that the entire population of the school has already had a grasp of the whole Yoo Jeongyeon and Mina Myoui thing, no thanks to Im Nayeon and her minions. But it’s only both the cheerleading squad and the soccer team who know about the whole Yoo Jeongyeon and Im Nayeon thing) 

Jeongyeon is happy to see Mina again, but she just wishes Mina didn’t have to appear at such awful timing. 

***

_(“Have you heard of the new girl?”_

_Jennie brings it up during lunch break before the afternoon training session, something about a new transferee from a prestigious all-girls school in Japan._

_Nayeon munches on a protein bar Sana managed to bring for the entire team. She doesn’t like being interrupted while eating. “Can you move to the part where this concerns me, Jennie?”_

_The other girls are busy chatting about Leonardo diCaprio in the latest BOP magazine. Sana is scribbling on a freshman’s slambook. The moment they hear their team captain’s cold, chagrined tone, all heads peer over to the seniors’ direction._

_Nayeon carelessly continues picking on the protein bar’s plastic packaging, unable to see the way Jennie hides the embarrassed flush on her face at the snide remark. She makes a junior scramble out of her seat next to Nayeon with just one cock of her eyebrow._

_Jennie takes the chair and plops down on it. “It concerns you”, she inches closer and whispers, “Because it concerns Yoo Jeong--...”_

_The swift snap of Im Nayeon’s head could have easily broken someone else’s neck if they ever tried doing it and they weren’t as physically-conditioned as the cheerleading captain._

_Either way, it’s like watching a spiritual possession of some sort, the way Nayeon’s face falls just as fast as the movement of her head. “What the hell are you talking about, Jennie?”_

_Sana immediately grabs Nayeon’s hand on the table. As if that could help._

_Jennie feels pride settle at the pit of her stomach. She now knows what gets their team captain riled up._

_“I’m surprised you didn’t have it figured out, cap.” She smirks._

_Nayeon feels like she’s about to blow up. Sana can feel the trembling hand in her hold._

_“Jennie…” the co-captain, rightfully, tries to tame things down. This has always been Sana’s main task in the team._

_Jennie, however, hasn’t always been the easiest teammate. Or maybe, Nayeon hasn’t always been the easiest team captain. Or person, in general. Either way, Sana tries to repress the growing tension in the table._

_“I mean…” Jennie doesn’t even spare her a glance. She’s too busy plastering a smug look on her face. “Didn’t you ever wonder why you sleep alone in your bed now?”_ ) 

***

Im Nayeon doesn’t remember much from that day except Jennie not being able to attend training for an entire week, Sana not talking to her for a few days, and being sent to Principal Park’s office for the first time in her entire life. 

_A lot of red._ Nayeon remembers seeing an insurmountable amount of red clouding her vision. _And hands coiled into a fist._ Nayeon recalls feeling her nails digging into her palms, forming crescent marks on it as her knuckles whiten and her hands tremble. Nayeon remembers how the anger seared inside of her, hungry for destruction. 

She remembers everything clearly now. 

The red. The trembling hands. The urge to destroy anything that comes across her path. Nayeon feels everything familiarize itself into her bones. It’s _exactly_ what she’s feeling as she takes large, calculated steps towards the dashing, innocent Mina Myoui, the weight on each pace digging into the ground as Nayeon prepares to throw herself at the girl. 

***

( _There’s something about the girl running that makes Jeongyeon stare, like some attraction that continuously pulls her towards the motion._

_When she perfectly rounds the track and stops a few feet within Jeongyeon’s space, not a wheeze escapes her lips, only a perfect, toothy grin. Beads of sweat trickle down and damp strands of hair stick on the sides of her face. Still, she looks every bit the breathtaking girl that she is._

_“So? What time?” She pants, jagged breathing only showing up now._

_Jeongyeon gulps a boulder down her throat. She pulls herself to reality and looks down on the stopwatch she forgot existed, numbers continuously moving._

_“Aish. Ya!” A hard thwack hits her shoulder, making Jeongyeon stumble back with a laugh. “You did that on purpose, did you? You just couldn’t handle the thought of a cheerleader running faster than you!”_

_Honestly? “Yeah.”_

_That must have been too straightforward because a brief second of silence passes by without any reaction. It’s not the tense kind of silence but more like a light, easy one that’s soon followed by a manic cackle._

_“HAHAHA!” She clutches at her shirt, a pool of sweat staining on the abdomen part. “How about this, I’ll teach you my secret?”_

_Jeongyeon lets out a dreamy sigh. “Yeah, sure.” She lets the girl drag her to the starling line of the track._

_She gets placed on one lane while the girl positions herself on the other, crouching on one knee while the other leg is stretched to the back, arms straightened to the front._

_“Ya, Yoo Jeongyeon.” Narrowed eyes turn to her. “Is this why you can’t keep up with me at night?”_

_Jeongyeon feels like all the air is knocked out of her lungs. “W-WHAT?” She almost falls on her butt._

_“Is it because you have low stamina?”_

_Jeongyeon honestly can’t stand this girl. “Y-YA!”_

_Laughter ensues and it’s manic. The air only settles down when the girl finally catches her breath. “Okay, okay”, she takes a deep sigh to compose herself. “All you have to do is start slow. Don’t lose your breath. And then, when you get the perfect timing, run. As fast you can, run.”_

_The stern, deep look in the girl’s eyes makes Jeongyeon’s mind spiral out of control. This was a bad idea. Looking into her eyes felt like jumping into a hollow abyss with no harness to pull herself back up again._

_It was intoxicating._

_“I can’t believe this.” Jeongyeon breaks the tension with a stiff chuckle. “It’s seven in the evening and we’re practicing sprints.” She lets out a snort at the ridiculousness of the situation. “If one of the hall monitors catches us, we’re totally dead, Im Nayeon.”_

_“You’re the only one dying here, Jeong.” Nayeon scoffs, pulling herself back, ready for takeoff. “I’m definitely going to outrun you and the hall monitor is only going to catch you!”_

_Before Jeongyeon even knows it, Nayeon is already sprinting away._

_“YA! That’s unfair!” She follows, letting her legs carry her as fast as it can._

_Nayeon wins, nonetheless, and they don’t get caught by any hall monitor.)_

***

There’s that sensation again; the familiar ringing in her ears, the thumping in her heart. Yoo Jeongyeon pulls back and lets her feet take slow, big strides. 

“Where are you going…?” Coach Solji watches the girl beside her move away, from slow steps to big strides and soon, a sprint. 

Jeongyeon runs, runs as fast as she can, as fast as her legs can take her. The field is 53 ⅓ yards big but suddenly, with the pace she’s going, it’s twice as big. Coach Solji shouts for her, louder and louder until Jeongyeon can’t hear her anymore. 

“Ya! Im Nayeon!” Jeongyeon yells at the top of her lungs, but Nayeon doesn’t look back. 

It all happens too fast. Jeongyeon watches it before her, how Nayeon tackles Mina to the ground. Somewhere behind them, someone screams. 

***

"Do you want to watch the soccer team's training?" 

They're situated side by side on Chaeyoung's bed, staring at the cracks of the dull white ceiling, when Dahyun thinks of the idea, head propped up on one hand and lying on her side. 

Dahyun excuses it as an additional segment to the school tour but Chaeyoung would be down for it either way. It's better than staying in the room and doing nothing. 

(Chaeyoung just really wants to see her mom)

When they get to the field, it's scorching hot. The sun is as its strongest wave, bestowing piercing heat upon each of the girls playing underneath the vast blue skies. The field is big enough to fit at least six different teams of different sports but somehow, it's too crowded for the cheerleading squad and the girls' soccer team. 

They don't even get to sit down on the benches. One foot on the bermuda grass field and Dahyun is already sprinting to the group of girls crowding around in a huddle, all the while managing to let out an ear-piercing scream that makes Chaeyoung’s eardrums recoil. 

It doesn’t take long before a small space appears in between two of the girls huddled around, and Chaeyoung gets a glimpse of the commotion. She sees someone on the ground, Dahyun’s blonde hair, and someone pulling perhaps a person back. Chaeyoung immediately runs over. 

Jeongyeon is there, standing in between Nayeon and another girl Chaeyoung can’t quite catch a glimpse of the face. She’s clad in her training clothes with her hair swept up in what Chaeyoung supposes once was a neat ponytail but is now a complete mess, with strands hanging down the sides of her face. 

It dawns on Chaeyoung, the scene happening before her, like a slow-motion in a movie. Jeongyeon is standing in between her mother and a girl who looks like she’s cowering away from the fight. It’s not even a fight. More like Nayeon throwing out harsh word after word and attempting to escape from whoever is holding her back (Dahyun).

The last time Chaeyoung has seen her mother so riled up was when she was a kid. It’s an unclear memory, but Chaeyoung will never forget how Nayeon slapped a man across the face and threw water at him as well before pushing him out of their house late at night.

Just when Chaeyoung thought that was the worst of her mom's anger, she witnesses this...

“Chaeyoung?! Chaeyoung!” Dahyun’s voice rings loud amidst the profanities being thrown around. 

Chaeyoung snaps out of her shock. “H-Huh? What?” 

“Help Jeongyeon unnie!” 

"O-Okay!" Chaeyoung scrambles on her feet and runs over to help Jeongyeon in whatever she is doing–is she shielding this girl or what?–and just when she does so, through the only method she knows how (hint: it’s not a good one), Chaeyoung regrets it almost immediately. 

“Let go of me!” Nayeon manages to escape from Dahyun’s fragile hold and marches to reach for Mina again, shoving hardly whoever stands in her way, her future daughter included. 

Chaeyoung stumbles back, the sheer impact of her mother’s entire body hitting her is knocking the air out of her lungs. Not once in her entire life did Nayeon ever lay a hand on her. It was always either just a bad scolding or, in worst case scenarios, grounding, but never physical consequences whenever she did anything bad. 

This is the first time Chaeyoung felt so much pain and shock, physically and emotionally. 

The fight still goes on even while Dahyun and some other girl hold Nayeon back again, and Jeongyeon tries to contain the mess by pleading Nayeon to stop. 

Nothing happens.

There’s a scrape on Chaeyoung’s palm and it’s bleeding. No one bothers to help her up. She sees who Jeongyeon is protecting _._ It’s a familiar-looking girl although, frankly, all of the girls she’s seeing–one was helping Dahyun hold Nayeon back, one was with Jeongyeon, and the last is the girl being protected–they all look familiar.

Chaeyoung thinks they might have been victims of her mother’s decision to cut everyone off except aunt Jihyo. Or just old friends her mother had left behind.

Either way, Chaeyoung thinks hard and lets her mind try to familiarize these three girls. 

She gradually realizes she’s seen the three of them from the stack of pictures in her mother’s box of mementos, but by the time it dawns on Chaeyoung, someone has finally decided to stop the commotion. Of course, it’s none other than student council President Jihyo together with Principal Park and the two coaches behind her, entering like the damn police force crashing a high school party. 

“What the–” 

“HELL!?” Jihyo finishes for Principal Park, in all the outrage and disappointment her voice can muster. The huddle around Nayeon, Jeongyeon, and Mina makes way for the scary president. “What the actual hell is happening here!?” 

Jeongyeon is breathless and battered. “You ask HER!” She points to the cheerleading captain standing in disarray, hand on one hip while the other running through soft waves of hair that had managed to lose its hair tie. 

Jihyo turns to her best friend, aghast. “Nayeon!? What the hell!?”

Nayeon refuses to meet her gaze, breathless. 

“Okay, everyone involved, detention!” Principal Park steps in. The crowd huddled around the group suddenly disperses at the mention of detention because of course, everyone wants a glimpse of the drama but never the involvement in it. 

The spectators now gone, Principal Park finally sees the students caught red-handed. He narrows his eyes at each and every girl before him. 

"Im Nayeon, Yoo Jeongyeon, Kim Dahyun, Momo Hirai, Sana Minatozaki…" 

Chaeyoung’s eyes widen. A gasp leaves her lips. _Oh my god. It’s them._ The two aunts she had briefly grew up with but forgotten existed. She knows who they are, remembers them by the countless candies and toys they’ve given her as a kid, but after losing touch with them, Chaeyoung now can’t even distinguish who’s aunt Sana and who’s aunt Momo.

“And the two new transferees already getting in trouble?" An incredulous scoff escapes Principal Park’s lips. Chaeyoung sees him darting disappointed glares between her and the girl Jeongyeon was protecting. 

"Mina Myoui and Son Chaeyoung. _All of you_. Detention." 

Violent reactions ensue but Chaeyoung’s mind is too busy short-circuiting at the sight of the familiar girl. Somewhere in her mind, Chaeyoung is sure this Mina girl is another one of the people her mother cut off from their lives, but unlike Sana and Momo, she can’t recall any special memory or distinguishing trait from the girl. 

_That just means mom must have cut her off earlier for me not to remember. Did mom hate her that much?_

"What! Mr. Park, Nayeon started it!" Someone exclaims, breaking Chaeyoung’s reverie. It’s Jeongyeon, exasperated. Mina hides behind her, face in hands. She looks like she's whimpering. 

"Saem! We were just trying to stop her from killing Mina unnie!" Dahyun quips, throwing piercing daggers at Nayeon with her eyes. Her blonde hair is out of its sleek ponytail now and her uniform is slightly wrinkled from holding Nayeon back. 

Sana and Momo remain silent, the two co-captains simply letting out deep, resigned breaths.

Principal Park is already moving out, intentionally ignoring each reaction and just waving his fingers to signal everyone to follow him to the detention room. Coach Hyojin and Coach Solji are already gathering their respective teams back to training. 

Nayeon just wants to end all the shit. She follows behind the principal, mindful in maintaining a respectful amount of distance with anyone. Jeongyeon and Mina walk behind her, heads hanging low. Dahyun walks beside Chaeyoung, holding her scraped hand. Jihyo, Sana, and Momo walk last, just exhausted with everything.

It's not even one whole day in 1998 and Chaeyoung is already injured and going to detention. _Ugh. What else could happen?_

***

This looks like the Korean version of the Breakfast Club but with more drama and damage, with misfits from not-so different aspects of life–each just as damaged as the other–gathering in one room for detention.

Chaeyoung takes a good look at everyone from her seat at the back of the classroom, beside Dahyun who is carefully tending to her scraped palm.

The wooden arm chairs are arranged in neat rows and columns, equal distances each, in a manner that makes them look like they're taking their SATs and not spending an hour in detention (and more if they don't get it together–Principal Park's words).

It's disheartening, how no one tries to sit anywhere near Nayeon's vicinity (Chaeyoung tried to take the chair behind the older girl, but then she remembers this version of her mother doesn't have any idea that she exists let alone is her daughter, and Dahyun immediately drags her to the back seats, away from "evil"). Jeongyeon is sitting on the chair nearest by the door, face covered with her hands. Beside her is an empty seat–Mina's–its occupant in the clinic getting her bruises tended to. Sana and Momo–Chaeyoung still can't remember which is which–are seated beside each other, a few chairs away from Jeongyeon, avoiding any contact or conversation as well. 

No one dares sit anywhere near Nayeon. Everyone–including Dahyun and Chaeyoung–are seated in the other half of the room. 

Although it's _awful_ and the heavy tension lingering in the air is suffocating even without context, Chaeyoung wishes for the silence more than she likes to hear her mother's harsh words again. This Nayeon is terrifying, that she concludes after witnessing the events from earlier unfold before her very eyes.

Just as Chaeyoung wishes for more of the silence and the faux tranquility, the door opens and in walks Principal Park and President Jihyo again, after talking with the coaches of the soccer and cheerleading teams.

"You've maintained cease-fire for ten whole minutes. That is the improvement I want to see more often." Principal Park smiles at everyone but no one is even sparing him a glance except Chaeyoung, who is already forming some sort of distaste over the middle-aged man. 

"Anyways", he clears his throat. Eventually, Sana–or Momo?–look up at him. "I am letting you all go after I call all of your parents to inform them and your dorm headmistress to pick you all up." His eyes linger on Nayeon and Jeongyeon longer than the others. 

"Ms. Myoui will be with you all shortly. I am leaving President Park here to make sure everything will go smoothly." He turns to Jihyo, who's busy intensely glaring at her best friend who still refuses to meet her gaze. "May I talk to you outside again before I go?"

Jihyo quietly nods and exits the room together with Principal Park trailing behind. 

The moment they're gone, the atmosphere in the room shifts along with the same exact moment as Jeongyeon finally speaks up, with a kind of strength and exasperation in her tone that Chaeyoung can remember from her mother's own. 

"Nayeon. Apologize." 

Momo–or Sana?–looks up for the first time since the heavy silence and the refusal to look at each other. 

"Apologize." Jeongyeon finally turns to the girl at the other end of the room. "You started all of this mess. Like you do _every single time_."

Nayeon, however, doesn't look back at everyone. She remains staring outside the window. "To who?" Her voice doesn't waver. It sounds like the same amount of anger from earlier, now somehow, a little worse. "To your ballerina girlfriend?" 

Chaeyoung sees it. The way Jeongyeon shuts her eyes with so much force, visibly showing the frustration and thinning patience in them. 

_Oh no…_

"I'm not wasting my breath for that, Yoo."

A loud smack resonates around the room. Everyone flinches. Except Nayeon. 

"JUST APOLOGIZE, DAMN IT!" Jeongyeon jerks up from her seat. "WHY IS IT SO HARD FOR YOUR STUBBORN ASS TO TAKE THE FUCKING FAULT?!"

Like a scene from a horror movie, Chaeyoung watches as her mother finally turns around. Slowly. Well-calculatedly. With all the softness and intentional ignorance of a prodigy psychopath. 

"This is _my_ fault, Yoo Jeongyeon?" 

" _EVERYTHING_ IS, NAYEON!" 

If Chaeyoung isn't so appalled by everything happening before her, she would have noticed the crack in Jeongyeon's resolve, the way her voice wavered in that one split second. 

She would have noticed it if only she weren't so busy scratching at her scraped palm, unknown bad habits coming back again. 

She watches as Nayeon snaps. 

"THIS IS _YOUR_ FAULT!" She jerks up to a stand. Her eyes are so angered, tears are welling up in them. "That ballerina girlfriend of yours and you! IT'S BOTH YOUR FAULT!" 

"For the last _fucking time_ , Nayeon, Mina is not my girlfriend!" Jeongyeon lets out a resigned groan. "Stop making shit up and including her in this! This is all _your_ mess!"

_(Scratch it, Chaeyoung. Find something to dig your nails on to.)_

"If that girl just didn't enter our lives, we wouldn't have been this way! She comes in here stealing everything from me!" Nayeon is wavering. "EVERYTHING, JEONGYEON! _EVERYTHING!"_ _Including you._

That must have been the last straw in Jeongyeon. Because her next response has the entire room shifting to its record low.

"Don't blame us for your fucking abandonment issues, Nayeon."

Her voice is softer and exhausted. Everyone is.

( _Scratch harder. Make sure you feel something. You have to feel something, Chaeyoung.)_

It takes longer for Nayeon to respond to that. It looks like someone just punched a knife into her. All of the resolve in her, gone. 

Jeongyeon hit bullseye.

"W-What...did you just say?" 

"We all have something we're going through, Nayeon." Jeongyeon sits down, "Your issues aren't an excuse for you to treat everyone around you like shit." And then, she turns away. 

Nayeon looks like she has something else to say, but no amount of strength remains in her system for her to cough it out.

The room silences down yet Chaeyoung doesn't hear it when Dahyun says something beside her. She doesn't feel it when she shakes her shoulders to get her attention. 

"...hand!"

"...your...!"

"Chae...!"

It only registers on Chaeyoung when she sees Sana and Momo are standing in front of her, one holding her hand while the other dabbing the hem of her tank top on her palm. Chaeyoung feels a wave of painful prickling at her hand, like pins and needles for a brief while before an intense surge of pain, as if someone was cutting through her skin. 

She looks down on it. 

"What...what's happening?" Chaeyoung barely croaks it out of her parched mouth. Her head feels light.

Dahyun is nowhere to be seen. Jeongyeon stands beside Chaeyoung, an arm around her shoulder, whispering soft hushes. 

Chaeyoung only sees it then, where they're all looking at, the pool of blood on the floor just below her hand. She follows its trail and sees red crescent shapes and bigger scratch marks on her palm. Her head suddenly feels lighter.

Dahyun finally arrives with a nurse and Principal Park and Jihyo trailing behind her.

Everyone makes room for the nurse to tend to Chaeyoung's bleeding wounds. She gets hoisted up with the help of the nurse and assisted to the clinic.

On their way out, Chaeyoung sees Nayeon on the floor by the hallway, knees hugged up to her chest, face hidden behind strands of hair. 

Thank god she doesn't look up because if she did, Chaeyoung would have broken down too. 

***

The girls' dorm headmistress is a strict and overbearing middle-aged woman named Han Yujeong. Everyone calls her Yumama, a pun at her name from her embarrassing motherly antics. Nayeon doesn't think it's funny so she sticks with the formal Mrs. Yujeong. But when no one's around and it's tiring to keep up a façade, she calls the headmistress the same as everybody else. 

(She's the mom Nayeon never had)

Yumama arrives half past seven in the evening, in her favorite colorful striped turtleneck sweater tucked inside baggy mom jeans, hair styled in her usual voluminous curls. She's like every 80s mom out there, as if time had forgotten to tell her it's already the new age, the 90s, and she's ready a decade behind. 

Either way, no one messes with Yumama. Especially when she's in her overly-concerned and dramatically emotional persona. 

"What happened?!" She's the overbearing, overprotective mom of all 150+ girls staying in the dorm (though a little closer to a certain group of seven girls).

Principal Park explains everything to Yumama inside another classroom, away from Nayeon who refuses to leave her position by the hallway. 

After a few minutes of silence at the corridor, Nayeon tilts her tear-stained face up at the sudden sound of hushed whispers and moving shoes squeaking.

_They must be leaving already…_

Nayeon catches a glimpse of familiar-looking black and purple soccer shoes passing by, walking beside a pair of tainted white Fila disruptors.

Nayeon keeps her head down. She counts the pairs of shoes she's seeing pass by. 

_Six._

A pair of leather mules stop right in front of Nayeon. 

"Nayeonnie…" Yumama's familiar soothing voice breaks her cloud of thoughts. It's like a small glimmer of light and Nayeon's stuck inside a deep, dark hole. "Don't you want to come home with us?"

_I do._

Nayeon shakes her head. 

Yumama stays, crouching down and rubbing soft circles on Nayeon's bare back. 

There are ruffling sounds followed by the feeling of soft cotton draped on her back. Nayeon takes a small peek. The sleeves of Yumama's sweater hang over her shoulders.

Nayeon hates it. "You should go." 

_I don't deserve all of you._

A sigh escapes Yumama's lips. She pats Nayeon's back. "Okay, dear. Don't stay out too late. I'll be waiting for you." 

She utters something else but Nayeon doesn’t hear it anymore. She makes sure they're all gone and she’s all alone by the dark corridor before deciding to let all of the held-back tears fall down her cheeks. 

Principal Park is already nowhere to be found. Jihyo probably left already together with Sana. Nayeon is completely alone now. _Just like how it’ll be forever. Alone._

“Nayeon?” 

An unfamiliar voice calls out and Nayeon, despite her tear-stained face and her hair in disarray, looks up just in time to see a familiar-looking girl standing a few feet away. Her bandaged hand is enough for Nayeon to recall her. 

She immediately wipes away all traces of tears down her face and stands up. _I can’t afford to look so weak in front of some strange new girl and potentially ruin my--_

“You can sit down.” Her voice is sweet and soft, and although it’s more of a command than a request--and god knows Im Nayeon doesn’t take commands from _anyone_ \--Nayeon finds herself gradually sitting down on the floor. 

“I’ll sit with you.” She whispers with a soft smile, carefully taking the space beside Nayeon but still making sure there’s some ample distance between them. 

This small girl feels like a memory she can’t quite remember, like an event familiar but had never really happened. A play of the mind on the heart and the emotions. 

The silence between them isn’t tense nor is it light. It’s the right amount of comfort and respect. Nayeon appreciates it. 

“I’m Son Chaeyoung, by the way.” The small girl--Chaeyoung--raises her bandaged hand for a shake. Clumsily. She realizes the mishap and then raises the other, uninjured hand. “You might be disgusted but I was assigned to stay in your dorm…?”

“That’s…” _Awful? Horrible? A nightmare?_ “...nice.” Nayeon takes a deep breath and lets out a tired sigh. “You’ll need all the luck and energy in the world to keep up with us but...that’s nice.” 

“Funny”, Chaeyoung chuckles, recalling a memory. “That’s what Dahyun told me when she showed me to the room. That I’d need a whopping amount of energy to keep up with you and Jeongyeon unnie…” 

Nayeon...doesn’t flinch at the name. She does let out a small scoff, however, looking away. “I bet Dahyun told you all about me being the devil or whatever…” 

“She did.” Chaeyoung fights back the tears welling up in her eyes. “But I kind of know the same kind of person back at home.” She fights the tears with a dry chuckle. _Hi, mom._

Nayeon turns to the small girl, smiling. “Let me guess, parent issues? Too strict they suck out all the fun or something?”

Chaeyoung wants to punch herself but that would make her look weird. _Don’t fucking cry in front of your mom’s teenage version, you coward._ “N-No...uh…” _Do I lie about having parents?_ “I...um...don’t have…parents…” 

Nayeon feels like her heart just took a fall. “Oh…” She wasn’t prepared for that. “Um...sorry about that.” 

“No, it’s okay.” Chaeyoung giggles, plays with her bandaged hand. 

“If it’s any consolation, I don’t have parents too…”

(Chaeyoung isn’t surprised. Not once in her entire life did she ever encounter her grandparents. Her mother never told her anything about them as well. _They might as well not have existed._ )

Silence envelopes them. It’s not the weird kind. It’s the kind that Nayeon wants, comfortable but enigmatic. 

“Why didn’t you go with the girls back to the dorm?” She decides to break it. 

Chaeyoung doesn’t meet Nayeon’s gaze, afraid to break down in front of her mother’s 1998 version. “Um, I...wanted to wait for you?” _She might think I’m crushing on her or something, oh my god._ “And also, my hand…” she shows off the bandaged hand with a soft smile. 

Nayeon nods wordlessly. She thinks it’s weird, the comfort of being with the girl. New kids in the school ultimately try their luck on befriending the popular girl but no one has ever come this far. And Chaeyoung isn’t even trying. 

_She reminds me of someone._

There’s a pull at Nayeon, an urge inside of her to treat the girl differently. _Because she’s different._ She’s not like the new, strange kids or anybody else. Maybe it’s the similarities between them (orphans, at most). Or the fact that she chose to keep Nayeon company despite all of the “warnings” about the notorious Im Nayeon. Whatever it is, it pulls Nayeon to a feeling she can’t quite familiarize herself with. _Affection._

“Why don’t we...go back to the dorms?” Nayeon stands up from the floor and puts on Yumama’s colorful sweater. 

Chaeyoung is struggling to stand up with one hand injured. Nayeon offers her hand. 

“T-Thanks…” The small girl smiles. 

Nayeon feels soft. She hates it.

That single-dimpled smile and the small mole just below Chaeyoung’s lips are all stark contrasts to the slightly-rugged look she is pulling off, with the short black hair and the crinkled uniform. If anything, she reminds Nayeon of Jeongyeon but less of the romance part and more of...the _familiarity_. 

Nayeon feels like she should know who this girl is but she can’t. _Why though?_

They walk back to the dorms together, in comfortable silence. Nayeon walks behind Chaeyoung, a safe distance away for no one to see her hanging out with some new kid 

(Somehow, when people find out who makes her soft, who has this unique effect to her, they use it against Im Nayeon. 

This, Nayeon can’t risk it.)

***

Before they enter the dormitory (Yumama is already asleep on one of the sofas in the lobby), Nayeon makes sure she brings this up before she forgets.

“That thing you did earlier…” She trails off, eyes gazing towards the bandaged hand of the younger girl. 

Chaeyoung sees it, where Nayeon’s eyes wander off to. 

“Do you...do it often?” 

“Uh…” Nobody knows this about Chaeyoung. Even her mother in the present. “It’s just...a weird habit that I have whenever I feel scared…” 

“You scratch?” Nayeon feels concerned. 

“Uh...yeah…” Chaeyoung gulps down a boulder in her throat. “Just to make me feel something, tell my mind I’m still breathing. Like sleep paralysis. I do it to...like, wake me up. It’s weird, I know. I don’t know where I got it from...”

“No, it’s not weird…” Nayeon looks at her nails. Perfectly trimmed. “I do it too. When I’m scared.” She smiles at the younger girl. “Maybe you got it from your mom or something…”

Chaeyoung feels the tears again. “Y-Yeah…” she quickly turns away. “M-Maybe I did…” 

(By the time they arrive in their dorm room, Jeongyeon is nowhere to be seen. Nayeon doesn’t make any comment about it. She only wordlessly retrieves her clothes from the plastic storage tub underneath her bed.

“Are you going out again?” _She often sleeps with her boyfriend at his dorm…_

Nayeon pulls out a set of pajamas. “Huh? No.” She grabs a plastic basket with her toiletries. “I’m just going to the shower…?”

“You’re going to sleep here?”

“Well, it’s my dorm too…?” Nayeon smiles, a tad weirded out by the question. She chuckles. “Also, I can’t let you move around with that injured hand. You might break things here.”

“Oh...okay.” Chaeyoung remains on her bed. 

The moment Nayeon enters the bathroom, Chaeyoung cries for a solid five minutes, letting everything out. It’s awkward, sleeping with her mother in the same room. It’s awkward, getting the affection she thought she would never be able to get from her mother. 

By the time they’re both tucked in already, it’s almost midnight. 

Chaeyoung stares up at the ceiling and contemplates before saying it. “Good night, Nayeon.”

There’s silence. _She must be asleep already--_

“Unnie.” 

Nayeon’s voice is groggy and laced with sleep. Chaeyoung suddenly feels guilty for interrupting. “W-What?”

“Just call me unnie.” The bed beside Chaeyoung creaks. “And shut up. I need my sleep.”

Chaeyoung stifles back her small chuckle. For the first time in the last few years, she slept with an easy heart.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please tell me your thoughts and comments in #Twicein1998 i love u all pls continue reading and never get tired of it huhu


	5. teen spirit and trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Was that…a plan?” Dahyun eventually croaks out, throat parched and voice barely audible. The anxiety wells up in her like a damned acid reflux. “Are we…are we sneaking out?!”

“I should take a picture of you right now and put it up on the bulletin board”, Yoo Jeongyeon snickers at the idea and the image forming in her mind. “Addressing all of your devoted followers that _this_ is the real Park Jihyo, Student Council President and definitely _not_ the most perfect student in the entire universe.” 

Hanging out at Jihyo and Dahyun’s dorm is fun because she gets to see Jihyo in all of her natural glory, the one where she doesn’t look like the President’s daughter with her white knee-length socks, Haruta loafers, satchel bag, and the neatly-ironed uniform and blazer. 

A pillow is effortlessly thrown at Jeongyeon’s face, rightfully so. 

“Shut up”, Jihyo hisses but doesn’t stray her eyes away from the screen of her HP OmniBook. “I don’t see you looking like the ‘cool girl’ everyone thinks you to be so you don’t get to make fun of me right now.” 

“Hmm. Point accepted.” Jeongyeon shrugs before falling back on the bed, ruffling Dahyun’s sheets as she tosses and turns. 

Clad in pajamas borrowed from the owner of the bed (who’s decided to leave early for an Earth Club meeting), Jeongyeon isn't that far-off different from the student council president’s natural state of disarray. Their only difference is Jihyo’s pajamas being made out of expensive silk and Jeongyeon’s (Dahyun’s) is comfortable cheap cotton with plaid prints.

“What are you even doing in front of your _Portable PC_ at such an ungodly hour?” Jeongyeon mocks, clearly not living down the one time Jihyo prepared an entire speech on how her OmniBook was a “portable pc” and not to be referred to as (Jeongyeon’s words) a ‘digital clamshell’.

Jihyo rolls her eyes at the immaturity. “First of all, it’s already eight in the morning, you’re late. Second, I’m going through the lineup of performers for the talent show. The one I’m _supposed_ to be organizing, but because of your stupid ass, am now removed from.” 

“Why bother with it then?” Jeongyeon plucks on the strands of her sleep-mussed hair. “Who’s running the organizing committee?”

“Principal Park himself.” 

Jeongyeon doesn’t stifle back the dubious snort that escapes her lips. “Really? Wow, that’s a new calling for mass humiliation…” she sits up on Dahyun’s bed and turns to the girl on the other bed. “Are there even students lining up to perform besides us?”

“Actually…” Jihyo finishes what she’s typing before facing the laptop to the soccer captain and scrolling down the Microsoft Word file with the built-in mouse, showing a list of names. “A lot of people are signing up. He opened it to the public.” 

“What?” Jeongyeon gawks at the long list flashed before her, inching closer for a double-take. “What do you mean he opened it for the public? Other students are allowed to perform?” 

Jihyo, kindhearted as she is, nods with a crestfallen face. “It’s not a talent show anymore. It’s a competition.” 

Jeongyeon can’t even believe what she’s hearing. “What do you mean a competition? _We_ are competing against students from other schools? To what? Show our talent?”

“There’s a cash prize.” 

“Oh my god.”

At the prospect of monetary reward, the entire ordeal has suddenly transformed in the eyes of Yoo Jeongyeon. It’s not that she’s in need of any money–she’s a scholar for goodness’ sake–it’s just that, it’s _money_.

“How much?” 

“120,000 Won each participant.” 

A loud thud resonates around the still room. 

Jeongyeon crawls from her awkward position on the floor over to the edge of Jihyo’s bed. “120,000 Won!?” She pulls at the blanket covering Jihyo’s legs. “Jihyo! We’re rich!” 

Jihyo’s fights to tug the covers back. “What the–stop pulling my sheets!” 

“Oh my god!” Jeongyeon feels like she’s in a dreamland. She can already imagine all the comic books and latest-issued cleats she can buy with the cash prize. “We _have_ to win this stupid talent show competition, Jihyo!”

The president isn’t amused. In fact, she’s already breathless just by having to deal with Jeongyeon’s ecstatic lapse. “We’d need a group to enter the competition first, dumbo.” 

“You, me, and the she-devil...”

“A group with more than five members is required.” 

“Then let’s bring in Mina, Sana, Momo, Dubu, and that new kid Chaeyoung with us!”

Jihyo narrows her eyes at the hyped soccer captain. “Are you _seriously_ thinking that those girls would like another festive front seat in your drama with Nayeon?” 

As awful as it is to be a debbie-downer, after what happened yesterday, Jihyo isn’t quite sure that the girls would want to be a part of the drama between Jeongyeon and Nayeon again. _Anyone_ for that matter. No one wants to be part of the drama. Witness it and gossip about it, perhaps yes, but to be part of it? _Hell no._

“It’s _cash_ , Ji. They can buy everything they want to!” Jeongyeon is like talking in an alien language. Jihyo looks at her friend in utter confusion and aghast, as if the latter had grown a second head. 

“Are you hearing yourself right now?” She closes her laptop and sets it aside. “You’re literally considering putting Mina and Nayeon in _one group_ after what happened yesterday! You better fix that fight with Nayeon first or else you're both going to get expelled for physical violence!” 

The president gets up from her bed and walks towards her cabinet to prepare her clothes for the Casual day. 

Jeongyeon only follows Jihyo’s movements with a crestfallen face, blissful thoughts popping like a bubble being chased around by a kid. _Jihyo is the kid._

“Wow, okay. Thank you for ruining the fun.” 

“I was just stating the truth, Jeong.” Jihyo pulls out a plain white tee and a denim overall from the built-in cabinet. “Do you think after what happened, Mina would still like to join us? Nayeon won’t even breathe in the same air as her.” 

“Well too bad”, Jeongyeon scowls. “Molecules we breathe in are redistributed evenly in the atmosphere. Whether she likes it or not, atoms are recycled and she’ll either breathe the same air as Mina or die of asphyxia.”

“For a second there, you sounded like a true science geek...” Jihyo grins. 

Jeongyeon shrugs her shoulders proudly. “I _did_ join the Physics club when we were freshmen. I was Top 2.” 

“Yeah, I remember. Nayeon joined with you.” Jihyo looks over her shoulders, a shit-eating grin plastered on her face. “Wasn’t she Top 1?”

A pillow flies across the room. 

Jihyo dodges it with the agility of Mr. Miyagi from Karate Kid. “Ha! Missed!” She throws her tongue out at Jeongyeon before running off to the bathroom to take a shower. 

It’s proven to be a wrong decision, however, when Jihyo’s already in the shower and the realization hits her like the ice cold water spritzing from the shower head. She just left Jeongyeon outside, alone, with full access and power over her CD system and—

_Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want_

“YA! YOO JEONGYEON!”

***

In hindsight, Chaeyoung hasn't been a good time traveller.

On her first day, she accidentally makes an inappropriate comment on the most popular (and scariest) girl's legs, referring to them as "stems", 90s slang for slender and attractive limbs. Worst, it's her mother that's the most popular and scariest girl in school. 

Not even a few hours after that, she gets involved in a big fight, dramatically–and _uselessly_ –getting shoved in the process, by her own mother. 

Ultimately– _still on her first fucking day–_ she lands herself a VIP seat in detention, where she witnesses for the first time how terrifying her mother is. 

Chaeyoung used to hate watching 90s rom-coms because of the dramatic and cringey love triangles and petty issues, but here she is, living in one. 

The entire time travelling ordeal didn't exactly come with a stupid navigation manual or instruction guide. 

It didn't fucking tell her that her mother, Im Nayeon–whom she thought was the _lamest_ in entire universe–was apparently some Queen Bitch™ involved with the coolest girl in the school, Yoo Jeongyeon, who, Chaeyoung might add, is _allegedly_ involved with another girl, a timid but breathlessly-beautiful 1998 version of Chaeyoung's elegant aunt Mina. Oh, and there's also Chaeyoung's favorite aunt Jihyo who used to shower her with love and affection but now does not know who she is; there's aunt Momo and aunt Sana who, for the love of god, Chaeyoung still can't distinguish which is which; and lastly, Dahyun. Bubbly Dahyun, Chaeyoung's first friend in this year who looks like a part of the squad and yet...Chaeyoung can't remember any _aunt Dahyun_ in her life.

So yes, 1998 Son Chaeyoung isn't exactly doing great. She's only half-heartedly excited for what's to come, especially today, her first day as a student attending 1998 Apgujeong High. 

There’s definitely no manual for all of this, but Chaeyoung is definitely going to try to at least be a better version of herself here. Even if it means getting woken up by the voices of Backstreet Boys singing how they want it that way.

"Good morning unnie." Chaeyoung groggily sits up from the bed, hair in disarray, rubbing at her eyes to remove the traces of sleep.

"Unnie?" 

The voice is different, definitely not her mom's, which definitely catches Chaeyoung off-guard and jolting awake. 

"I mean, it's okay if you call me that. I prefer it to be honest…" Jeongyeon walks across the room, towards her bed, clad in plaid baggy pajamas and an oversized Sailor Moon shirt. When no one responds, she turns around and sees Chaeyoung sitting still on her bed, gaping at her. 

"What? What's wrong?" 

There's nothing wrong to be particular. Chaeyoung is just surprised that Jeongyeon has decided to be in the same room as—

“You’re back soon.” 

Nayeon’s voice isn’t as malevolent as last night’s but it isn't as delighted as well at the sight of Yoo Jeongyeon. One thing is for sure, the air inside the room has definitely stilled and Chaeyoung didn’t expect to be in the middle ground so soon. 

“Nayeon.” Jeongyeon’s smile has transformed into a placid expression, lips pressed into a thin line and brows neither raised nor meeting in the middle. “I didn’t expect you to be here.” 

It’s an even-tempered look that terrifies Chaeyoung more to be honest, knowing how easily-provoked her mother can be (that is, if this Nayeon has the same temperament as the present Nayeon)

“What?” A huff escapes the older girl’s lips. A sly grin follows. “This is my dorm too, you know.” 

“Really?” Jeongyeon doesn’t hide the way the corner of her lips tug, a mocking smirk forming. “That’s definitely not what it looks like whenever you sleep at your asshole boyfriend’s crappy dorm.” 

“Jealous, babe?” Nayeon puffs. “You’re really one to say that when _you_ were the one who didn’t sleep over last night?” 

Jeongyeon finally gets a hold of her wrinkled oversized striped button-down underneath a pile of unfolded shirts. “That’s because I didn’t want to stay in the same room as you.” 

“Ouch.” Nayeon feigns a dramatic yelp. Chaeyoung honestly can’t with her mother’s dramatic ass. 

“Let’s not do this in front of the kid, Nayeon.” Jeongyeon stands up from her crouched position on the floor. She pushes back the storage box under her bed with her foot.

“The kid?” Nayeon frowns at the term. She glances at Chaeyoung whose presence they’ve both mutually ignored. “You mean her?” 

“Who else?” Jeongyeon grabs a towel fresh from the hanging rack near the door. She turns to _the kid_ in the room. “I’m going to take a shower at Dahyun’s and then we can go? I take it you can get yourself prepared within...fifteen minutes?” 

“What the--where are you taking her?” Nayeon butts in, glowering at the soccer captain.

“To school? Are you...bothered by it?” Jeongyeon grins at the unusual frantic interjection. She takes a good look at the older girl from head to toe, noticing the way her brows are furrowed together and how her lips are pursed into a pout. 

“No”, Nayeon responds almost possessively. “I was just planning to have her meet the squad--...”

“Oh, you want to brainwash the kid already?” 

“Brainwash? What the hell are you talking about?” Nayeon crosses her arms over her chest. Gone is the placid expression on her face or the sly grin. She just looks really upset now. 

Chaeyoung actually thinks the two older girls are deliberately ignoring her presence now, speaking as if she’s not in the room and using “the kid” as a secret term. Frankly, she had to suppress her urge to butt in yet looking at where the conversation is heading, it might be safer to stay quiet. 

Besides, from the view on Chaeyoung’s bed, she can see the smallest frame of second where Jeongyeon actually looked like she regretted her words. It only lasted for a while though. The soccer captain immediately just plasters an exasperated look.

“Look”, Jeongyeon sighs. “We all know how being introduced to your group has turned out for some people. They change. Just like you. And as much as possible, I don’t want that to happen to Chaeyoung.” 

_Wow. So they do know my name…_

“Why are you talking like you’re her freaking mom?” The shift in Nayeon’s upset temper to this...something tense, something hostile, reminds Chaeyoung of the fight in the storage room. “Reality check, Yoo Jeongyeon, you only care about her because being a bad tour guide would reflect on your college applications.” 

“WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL—”

“Okaaaaay!” Thankfully, Jihyo waltzed into the room like a miracle worker with super senses, stopping the fight before it could even worsen. “What the heck? Really? This early? Couldn’t you wait until the kid was gone?”

_Again with the kid..._

Jeongyeon clutches her clothes and towel closer and then throws Nayeon one last glare before stomping out of the room, leaving Jihyo to damage control–like the usual. 

Chaeyoung honestly isn’t in the mood for a morning bowl of hot freshly-served drama. _Aunt Jihyo always was a superhero of some sort._

Nayeon and Jihyo stand in silence. Chaeyoung only darts her gaze back and forth at the two older girls. Her mother stands with her weight on one leg, one hand on her hip and the other rubbing at her temples.

Jihyo’s holding on to the door knob, eyes tightly shut in frustration, breathing in deeply before plastering a big smile on her face, the perfect 360. 

“Chaeyoung, I’m sorry about–”

“No.” Nayeon cuts through, an imperturbable expression on her face. She grabs her bag on her bed. “ _I’m_ sorry about that. Don’t mind it.” 

“I...uh…” Chaeyoung honestly doesn’t know where to stand. She knows she’s supposed to be on neutral ground–and she is–it’s just that the situation is getting too out of hand, it’s hard to remain apathetic. 

“Unnie…” the term itself sits unfamiliar on her tongue. She’s calling her mother, who’s supposed to be 20 years older than her, ‘unnie’. “Um, I think it’d be best if you...talk it out with Jeongyeon unnie?”

Nayeon frowns. "...What?"

Jihyo raises a brow at the brazen suggestion. Being Im Nayeon’s best friend for _years_ gives her the advantage of knowing the girl in and out of her Queen Bitch™ image, and this means knowing as well how Nayeon _hates_ it when someone tells her what to do. 

(One time, the old co-captain of the cheerleading squad told Nayeon what to do. Safe to say, she’s a _former_ co-captain now. And never found roaming the grounds of Apgujeong High ever since)

So in the shocking turn of events, it’s only dumbfounding when Jihyo sees, with her own eyes, how Im Nayeon, resident Queen Bitch™ who doesn’t listen to what others have to say, just _nodded_ to a suggestion from someone younger than her. Not just any proposal but a suggestion of reconciliation between her and Jeongyeon, an idea put forward for _potential_ consideration. Potential. 

_And Nayeon just considered it in the snap of a finger._

“What just happened?” Jihyo gawks at the two girls before turning to said cause of shock. “Did you just…say yes to her?” 

Nayeon blinks back her confusion. "I just said I'll try?” 

“ _You_ ”, Jihyo emphasizes, scoffing at the incredulity of the situation. “The girl who turned down the same idea when it was _me_ who brought it up. A _thousand times_ before.”

“I just agree with her? It’s getting tiring having to fight with Jeongyeon all the time.” Nayeon shrugs, looking away, flustered. “And I started it earlier. If I didn’t insult her like that then she wouldn’t have lashed out. I'll _try_.” 

“Nayeon, realizing her mistakes, and apologizing…” Jihyo wonders if the world has officially gone mad or is it just her. “Honestly, what is happening? Am I missing something here?” 

“I’m going to _try_ and talk to her later.” Nayeon walks over to her best friend and musters up the courage to smile genuinely. “Besides, if Jeongyeon and I don’t get it together, _you’re_ the one left fixing the fallout.” 

“That’s been my job for the last year, Nayeon. Why only reconsider things now?”

Nayeon only shrugs her shoulders innocently before walking away. “Better late than never, Jihyo!” 

The moment her mother is out of sight, Chaeyoung feels like she can breathe again. Only for a short while. The light atmosphere is soon replaced by an awkward tension with Jihyo standing by the door, still completely dumbfounded. 

“Um…” Chaeyoung gets up from the bed, clearing her throat to catch her aunt Jihyo’s attention. “Are you okay... _sunbaenim_?”

Miraculously, the time travelling ordeal has managed to provide her with uniforms and a small set of clothes from her closet in the present. She pulls out a bag from underneath the bed and immediately goes through it for casual clothes.

Jihyo snaps out of the trance. “Oh! Um”, she walks over to Chaeyoung. “I’m sorry. I was just surprised. Nayeon's never considered things in her entire life. I'm also sorry about earlier. You were put into an awkward situation. Those two...they get out of hand sometimes... _most of the time,_ rather _…_ ”

Chaeyoung chuckles. “It’s okay.” _I’ve been through worse._

Jihyo pulls her hand out and offers a shake. “I’m Park Jihyo, by the way. I believe we haven’t been properly introduced to each other?” 

There’s a melancholic feel to being seen as a stranger by the woman who’s been more of your mother than your own mom. Chaeyoung’s Aunt Jihyo had eyes gleaming like the stars whenever they saw each other. She grew up with this woman singing her to sleep when Nayeon couldn’t, with Taeyeon’s If or IU’s entire discography. She had heard more I love you’s from Aunt Jihyo than Nayeon herself. Somehow, Aunt Jihyo had always witnessed first. Chaeyoung's first step, first bike ride, first (secret) tattoo, first drunk experience. _First._

At one point in Chaeyoung's life, she had made a compromise. Anybody else in the world could forget her existence, wipe her out of their memories. She'd be okay with everything as long as it's not her aunt Jihyo. 

So to look into Jihyo’s eyes right now and not see that familiar glimmer, feel that familiar bond, makes Chaeyoung want to just drop everything and return to the present. 

Without Aunt Jihyo by her side, everything feels lost and incomplete. 

But then Chaeyoung remembers the smile on her mom's face, of the urge to find out more about what had happened in the past that resulted into everything wrong in the present, and it makes Chaeyoung want to hold on a little longer. She still has her aunt Jihyo here. It's just that it's the 19-year-old version and she doesn't know who Chaeyoung really is. 

_You can do this. Just hold on._

Chaeyoung accepts the hand. "Son Chaeyoung, sunbae. It's an honor to meet you." 

Jihyo smiles, eyes crinkling into crescents. "Just call me Jihyo unnie. We're going to be seeing a lot of each other from now on." 

Chaeyoung stifles back her sigh. _Unnie._ "Yes, I'd like that, unnie." 

Light, awkward silence envelopes the two. Jihyo clears her throat and gestures for the door. "I'm gonna go already. If you ever need anything, ask Jeong for my number." 

"Yes. Thank you, unnie." The younger girl smiles. She waves her aunt goodbye and watches until she's out of sight. 

Chaeyoung takes a deep breath. It's not even a full day and she's already emotionally exhausted from having to deal with everything. 

If there's a good time for the time travelling instruction manual, now would be that. 

***

The memory comes into Jeongyeon’s mind halfway through trying to button up her top. She’s standing in front of the bathroom mirror in Jihyo and Dahyun’s dorm, staring at her reflection. 

( _“I tried out for the cheer squad.”_

_It’s not a question. When Nayeon brings it up, in the middle of Jeongyeon trying to finish her stupid stitching assignment from Home Economics class, the latter girl eventually ends up poking her thumb with the needle._

_“Ow!”_

_Nayeon immediately sits up on the floor and yanks Jeongyeon’s hand. She takes a look at the spec of blood pooling on the pad of the girl’s thumb._

_“You joined the cheer squad!?” Jeongyeon, however, couldn’t care less about the itching pain. She glares at Nayeon’s profile like she’s trying to bore holes in it. “Nayeon! How could you do that!?”_

_“I just tried out. I haven't joined yet.” Nayeon corrects, stretches the hem of her shirt to dab on the pooling blood. “I knew you wouldn’t like it, that's why I didn’t tell you.”_

_Jeongyeon forcefully yanks her hand from Nayeon’s hold. “Of course I wouldn’t like it! You’ve listened to all my rants about those insufferable girls and now you want to be one of them!?”_

_This is the very reason why Nayeon avoided informing her best friend in the first place._

_“You know how I’ve always wanted to try and join a club, Jeong.”_

_“This isn’t a club! It’s a cult!”_

_Nayeon rolls her eyes. “Now you’re just being immature...”_

_“Me? Immature!?” Jeongyeon lets out a gasp, absolutely aghast. “You’re the one being immature, Nayeon! We both know you wanting to belong isn’t the reason why you joined that cult!”_

_“Stop referring to the damn squad as a cult, Jeongyeon!” Nayeon gets out of Jeongyeon’s bed and moves to her own. “So what if I want to belong to a club!? Unlike you, I actually have a plan on where I want my life to go!”_

_“Wow, good attack there”, Jeongyeon gives her a big, drawn-out applause. “While we’re at that, why don’t we talk about the real reason why you want to join that godforsaken cult--I mean, club?”_

_Nayeon lets out a deep sigh. This isn’t how she expected her night would go. “Jeong…”_

_“No!” Jeongyeon jerks up to a stand. Small droplets of blood stained her white sheets. “You’re only joining that stupid squad because you want to get noticed by that senior guy who’s crushing on you! You’re failing to put into your mind that joining that squad will entirely change who you are! Those bitches think they’re gods!”_

_Nayeon doesn’t know what to say. Jeongyeon got it, the underlying reason. She just doesn’t understand where her hatred is coming from. Jeongyeon never got this mad when it was Sana who made it to the squad. “That’s not what you tell Sana--…”_

_“That’s because you’re not Sana!”_

_“What’s that supposed to mean?”_

_Jeongyeon doesn’t even know anymore. She stomps to the door. “It means, I don’t want you to become one of them!”_

_I don’t want to lose my best friend.)_

Jeongyeon remembers leaving Nayeon alone to sleep that night. They didn’t talk for a few days but eventually, Jeongyeon had to return to the dorm to get her clothes. By the time they reconciled, Nayeon was already walking down the halls in the notorious cheerleading uniform, slowly proving to Jeongyeon her worst nightmare. 

In the end, Jeongyeon had been correct. Whatever it was with that _cult_ , it changed Nayeon. She tried, but the final nail to the coffin was a few weeks later. Jeongyeon found out from Momo that Nayeon was already dating the senior basketball player, Woo Dohwan.

_Joining that stupid squad changed her. I’m not gonna let that happen to the new kid._

The idea eventually comes just as Jeongyeon locks Jihyo and Dahyun’s dorm. 

Afternoon training sessions have been scratched out of Jeongyeon’s schedule now. Her classes after lunch are the boring ones. A proper tour guide would show her guest around to the _real_ cool spots around campus. Cool is _definitely_ _not_ sitting in class listening to middle-aged teachers blabber about their existential crises and the hobbies of their pets. 

As if on cue, the go-to-person for this kind of thing walks out of his dorm on the same floor, clad in his sleazy clothes and snapback cap. 

“Yo, Wang!” Jeongyeon calls out, initially earning the attention of Jackson Wang, resident party veteran. She greets him with a high-five and a side bump, their traditional “bro” way of greeting. 

“To what do I owe this pleasure, Captain Yoo?”

Jeongyeon snorts at the accented English and the whiff of strong hair gel breathing into her space. “Did you steal Jinyoung’s hair gel again?” 

Jackson shakes his head with a shit-eating grin. “It’s actually Bambam’s today, thank you for noticing.” 

“Whatever”, Jeongyeon rolls her eyes with a good chuckle. “I wanted to ask if I could borrow your ride?” 

Aside from Jackson Wang being a party veteran, he also owned the coolest ride in the entire school: a a Jeep Wrangler. 

“You’re going to skip classes?” For a split second there, Jackson actually looked concerned and every bit the actual Student Prefect Jihyo had assigned him to be instead of the party boy he actually is (he lets the freshmen go off in cutting classes, so as long as they were the cute ones. When Jihyo heard about it, Jackson came back to school in crutches and a fractured leg)

“Cut the act out, Wang. I’m just going to take the new kid to Deux’s. Figured it’d be easier to get in since it’s casual day, no uniforms.”

“New kid? Deux’s? Are they even allowed there?” 

“She’s a teenager, stupid. Not ten years old.” Jackson earns himself a flick on the forehead. “And besides, I’m not going to let her do anything. Maybe some billiards and stuff but not the cigarettes and beer.”

Jackson only annoyingly nods. “Whatever you say, cap. Just make sure you don’t run into those girl gangs from the public school across town.” He fishes for the keys of his Jeep from his pocket and hands it over to the soccer captain. “I’m going to ditch morning classes for some fun at Henry’s.” 

Jeongyeon grabs the keys and slips the key ring around her finger. “Was the broken leg not enough of a punishment?” She snorts. “Jihyo’s definitely going to kill you if she finds out her prefect is the one cutting classes.”

“That’s why you shouldn’t tell Jihyo, Cap.” Jackson cheekily winks. 

Jeongyeon fakes a gag. “Why shouldn’t I?” 

“Because I’ll tell on you.” 

“Yeah? To who?” 

“Nayeon.” Jackson grins like a mischievous fucking fox who just moved checkmate. “She’s going to get pissed if she finds out you snuck the new kid out and brought her to Deux’s.” 

The two hold a ridiculous stare down. Jeongyeon is honestly out of words. How can someone stoop so low and use blackmailing as an option? People who choose to throw threats at others should be indicted.

“You wouldn’t dare, Wang.” Jeongyeon narrows her eyes down to a glare. 

It’s not that she’s afraid of Nayeon finding out. It’s just that she’s afraid that if she finds out, she’ll tell Jihyo and that’ll definitely get Jeongyeon a bad scolding for bringing the new kid to Deux’s. Jihyo’s scolding is the worst. ( _And_ _maybe, just maybe, she’s a tiny bit afraid of Nayeon too…_ )

Jackson smirks. “Watch me.” 

It lasts for a few seconds, their immature stare down, before Jeongyeon gives in with a defeated sigh. “Ugh, fine. I’ll keep my mouth shut but if Jihyo ever finds out, it’s not on me.” 

Jackson agrees. “Okay, fine. Enjoy your Deux’s trip with the new kid. Don’t trash my car!” 

“Yeah, whatever. Thanks again!” Jeongyeon rolls her eyes and waves the guy off, going the other way.

Blame it on the universe for perfect timing, but just as Jeongyeon passes by, an ethereal face greets her. Clad in what would put all the supermodels to shame, Mina Myoui walks out of her room in the most perfect mismatched tracksuit set. 

“Mina…” it barely leaves Jeongyeon’s lips in a gasp. “I didn’t think you’d be late for first class.”

Mina smiles in that way that would make _anyone_ feel like their insides are mush. She even adds a chuckle. That would knock out anyone.

_But Jeongyeon’s not anyone._

“I…I was kind of not sure if I wanted to go to school today…”

“Wow. Coming from you?” Jeongyeon teases. “I’m shocked.” 

Mina only shrugs her shoulders with a playful smile. The cheekiness in them must have invite from Jeongyeon.

“I was planning on taking Chaeyoung out to this cool place. Do you…want to come with us?”

It would be more fun if it took a lot more coaxing for the girl to come. Jeongyeon never expected Mina Myoui to be this compliant, even at the means of tainting her perfect attendance record. It didn’t even take a hesitant minute for the girl to reply.

Mina only shrugs, in that graceful and soft way of hers, and ends everything with a perfectly-mixed sophisticated giggle. “Sure. I’ll come with you guys.”

***

On second thought, Chaeyoung doesn’t need an instruction manual anymore. 

After much composing herself and breathing exercises in front of the bathroom mirror before taking her shower, Chaeyoung has come to a realization that she doesn’t need any guide on how to traverse the strong waters of the 90s.

She was 6 when she had her first child-- _virtual child--_ in the form of her Tamagotchi. When the babysitter was more boring than aunt Jihyo reading to her Geronimo Stilton’s adventures, she played with her Game Boy or Talk Girl and pretended there were burglars trying to break in, while Home Alone was playing in the background.

She was 9 when she first saw her mother dancing to H.O.T’s Candy. At 10, she already memorized the steps from sneaking into Nayeon’s room and watching her dance to it so much. By 11, her first phone was a Barbie flip phone that could only produce three different sounds. 

At 14, Chaeyoung was introduced to the original girl crushes: 90s Alicia Silverstone, Winona Ryder, and Drew Barrymore. There began her vintage soul (and her identity crisis). Her entire wardrobe was a time-travelling experience. By 19, her current age, she had the soul of a nostalgic 30-year-old. 

Needing an instruction manual on how to blend in with the 90s crowd is like giving a lion a lesson on how to be a wild animal. Son Chaeyoung was _born_ to live in this era (unfortunately for her, she was born in its last year). 

There needn't be any guiding here. Her mother’s bathroom shelf is filled with enough makeup products--mainly a _lot_ of mascara and lipstick--and the magic time-travelling experience has equipped her with enough clothes. 

In a classic 90s chick-flick, this would be the perfect time for a makeover montage. 

(On present day 2018, the perfect background music for this would be Monster, or any of Avril Lavigne’s punk princess classics. 

Now, Chaeyoung imagines No Doubt’s Just A Girl playing as she puts on her denim jeans _because that’s the staple fashion_ , a white spaghetti strap lace top _because the 90s is all about less skin_ , and Doc Martens _just because it’s all I have_.

Chaeyoung is _so_ ready for this.) 

***

From the moment Nayeon walked inside the school, she already knew it was going to be different. 

Ever since the cheerleading uniform was handed to her in sophomore year (and the squad was granted permission to wear it alongside the school uniform unless on Casual days), Im Nayeon was never seen wearing anything but the plaid skirt and the EAGLES top anymore.

It wasn't just a fashion statement, it was also a status symbol. 

Now that she isn't wearing the uniform anymore–and she's heavily dependent on baggy mom jeans and another one of her crop tops–Nayeon suddenly feels... _normal_ again. 

Without afternoon training sessions, she has to attend all of her morning classes and even the student council meetings. As if the gawking eyes aren't enough, the moment she walks inside her classroom, of course, it's a whole ass party.

"WELCOME BACK, IM NAYEON!"

As expected of the class clown, Yook Sungjae leads the entire welcoming hurrah, holding up a makeshift banner and throwing around torn pieces of his Algebra book as confetti.

"OUR PRESIDENT IS BACK!"

Ah yes. Aside from team captain of the cheerleading squad, Im Nayeon is also the class president. 

Yooo Sungjae celebrates it like a damn hero's welcoming. 

"Stop embarrassing me", Nayeon hisses (although her heart is flustered at the gesture). She walks past Sungjae and towards her seat in the far window side of the room, front row for the President.

Sungjae, of course, doesn't let this slide. "Why are you being so grumpy early in the morning? We're celebrating because 4-1's class president is back!"

Behind Sungjae, most of the class participates and looks at Nayeon gleefully. For a second there, the cheerleading captain feels some warmth blossom in her chest.

It's not that Nayeon chose the cheer squad more than her class. It's just that it's competition season and she has to put her priorities in line. With the squad vying for another regionals appearance and the public school from across the street competing, Nayeon can't help but put more focus on her cheerleading than her class duties. Thankfully, class 4-1 had been _the best_ to her, never complaining and always behaving—Yook Sungjae and Jackson Wang excluded.

_Wait a minute…_

"Sungjae, where's dumber?" Nayeon immediately scatters her eyes around the classroom, looking for the other half of the Dumb and Dumber duo. 

Sungjae frowns, looking around a swell. "I...I don't know? I haven't seen him."

Just before Nayeon could even ask her other classmates, the front door slides open and in walks their homeroom adviser, a heavily-pregnant Mrs. Nam in her denim dress and Cyndy Lauper hairstyle. Everyone scurries to their seats like soldiers at the prospect of their commander. 

Sungjae trips in the process of returning to his seat, much to Nayeon's chagrin and the entire class' stifled laughter. He sits a chair away from Nayeon. 

Mrs. Nam slams her ruler on the wooden desk in front. She looks at the back of the class where vice-president Seungwan sits but Nayeon stands up immediately, to the surprise of their homeroom adviser.

"Back so soon, Ms. Im?" Her voice is light and a little mocking. Nayeon thinks it's too early for a rebuttal.

"Good morning to you too, Mrs. Nam." 

Mrs. Nam lets out a snort before proceeding with class attendance. 

Now with everyone seated, Nayeon can finally see who's missing. To her horror, however, the other half of her favorite Dumb and Dumber duo is, in fact, missing. 

"Only Jackson Wang, ma'am." 

Mrs. Nam makes a note of it in her notebook before wishing the class a productive day and leaving. 

Nayeon slumps on her seat the moment the older woman is out of sight. _This doesn't feel good._

Sungjae inches closer, "Where's Wangwang?" 

Jackson Wang not in class only means he's making trouble again. The risks in that prospect involve two things: one, the reputation of class 4-1 at stake for having the two most exhausting clowns, and two, Jackson _always_ gets someone involved with his antics. And it's the same person almost every time.

Nayeon looks across the room for Wendy. Seeing as the vice-president is responsible enough and intelligent to understand just one meaningful glance from Nayeon, Wendy stands up and takes control of the class while Nayeon storms outside and towards class 4-2. 

The window by the hall provides enough viewing for Nayeon. She sees Jihyo seated in her place somewhere in the middle row. Beside her, a seat is empty. 

Nayeon's worst nightmare is slowly beginning. 

Without wasting any second, she dashes down the corridor towards the stairs at the end of the hallway. The sophomore classrooms are two floors below them. If she runs just as fast as she does during training sprints, she can catch the classes before the first period which is in a few minutes.

As if some miracle, however, a particular yellow-haired girl in a character-defining plaid overall and heavily-thick-soled sandals appear before Nayeon, ascending the stairs.

“Nayeon!” Dahyun blurts, surprised. “I was just coming up to go see you!”

“I was about to do the same…” Nayeon can already feel the unpleasant churning in her stomach. “Have you seen Chaeyoung?” For some reason, the welcoming committee had put the younger girl in the same class as Dahyun. 

The slight widening of Dahyun’s eyes is enough of an answer. “Have you seen Jeongyeon unnie?” 

Nayeon shakes her head, appalled by the situation. _Oh crap._

“Jihyo unnie!” Dahyun squeaks, looking up behind Nayeon.

To the cheer captain’s (and possibly both Jackson Wang's and Yoo Jeongyeon's) absolute horror, somehow, seeing Nayeon sprinting down the hall is enough for Park Jihyo’s _trouble_ senses to be triggered, ensuing in the president’s apparent arrival behind Nayeon, in all the intimidating glory of her _what-happened-now_ pose.

“Next time you decide to Naruto-run yourself down the hall, make sure I don’t see it, Nayeon.” Jihyo deadpans, arms crossed over her chest. She eyes the two girls before her. (Nayeon thinks this is it. Jihyo’s _signature line_ in 3…2…1…)

“What happened now?”

Nayeon feels an incoming headache creeping in. She rubs circles on her temples. “Jackson’s not in class.”

For a second there, Dahyun saw actual thunder bolts light up in Jihyo’s eyes.

“Jeongyeon’s not in class too…” The student council president is definitely not amused. She turns her gaze at Dahyun, prods, “What about you? What’s wrong?”

Dahyun feels her throat dry up. “Uh…Chaeyoung’s…missing in class…”

Park Jihyo’s IQ can probably put Albert Einstein to shame; she’s just being modest about it. Her emotional quotient can beat that of Mother Teresa’s; she just doesn’t tell. The most ostensible thing about Park Jihyo is her Interpersonal intelligence. Mix it up with her natural intellectual abilities and emotional quotient and you have an ultimate superhuman—minus the superpowers, of course.

The phrase “it doesn’t take a genius” probably does not apply to her because she is a virtuoso. It takes a miniscule second for her to connect the dots and foresee the gigantic dark bubble of chaos before them.

_It’s casual day. Jackson Wang is absent. Jeongyeon is gone. Chaeyoung is new around and naïve._

It’s the perfect day to skip classes.

“Fuck!”

Nayeon has never seen Jihyo so aggravated, enough for her to curse out loud and potentially ruin her perfect-student image. Thankfully, this staircase is almost never used by anyone.

The virtuous student council president lets out an exasperated snarl. “Nayeon, go get Sana. We’ll need her car. Dubu, get Momo. She won’t ever live this down if we don’t bring her along. Meet me behind the west bleachers in ten.”

Jihyo’s already casually strutting away after that, leaving both Nayeon and Dahyun _outright_ jumbled, mouths hanging ajar and just watching the intimidating girl walk out of sight.

“Was that…a plan?” Dahyun eventually croaks out, throat parched and voice barely audible. The anxiety wells up in her like a damned acid reflux. “Are we…are we sneaking out?!”

Nayeon can’t blame innocent _Saint Dahyun_ for this. If she’s not mistaken—and from Jeongyeon’s own words—the only blemish in Dahyun’s school record was the _one_ time she was late for first period. By 43 seconds (Class secretary Jiwoo is _very_ strict). And she wasn’t even doing anything wrong. Dahyun was only late because she reported a lost wandering kitten to Principal Park’s office. 

For Jihyo to arrange this idea and give them specific tasks (knowing her, it’s never a proposal for pending agreement. It’s always a command to be put into actions one way or another), it only means one thing.

And that _thing_ renders the bubbly, goody-two-shoes Kim Dahyun hysterical. Her record of one blemish _might_ be changed today… _that is, if they get caught._

***

(Nayeon only realizes, halfway into secretly dragging Sana out of class, how anger sits well in her system. She can set it aside to focus on other things, say, Dahyun’s mental breakdown but once she’s left alone with her thoughts, the realization hits like the titanic crashing into the iceberg.

Jeongyeon just decided to bring Chaeyoung to a dangerous place that can potentially introduce her to addictions like billiards, beer, and cigarettes, all the while intensely going against Nayeon when she opened up about introducing Chaeyoung to the cheer squad.

Just when Nayeon thought _okay, maybe I can set aside my difficulties with her for this one time_ , that doofus decides to do something stupid and ruin everything.

 _With Chaeyoung!_ Chaeyoung, perhaps the only _kid_ in the entire universe whom, if Nayeon was left to choose between all the other kids in the world and her, she’d pick to be left with in a deserted island.

Nayeon only realizes that she is, without a doubt, _never_ holding back again if something bad happens to the innocent kid.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is like, a breather AHAHA i got so wrung out by chapter 4 but rest assured, there's mooooore drama to come :0 ALSO I LOOOOOOOVE THE THEORIES I'VE BEEN READING ON TWT HAHAHAHA
> 
> #Twicein1998


	6. the war no one won

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was all about the girl who was afraid to love and be left behind, and the girl who loved but was pushed away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally titled welcome to the black parade but plans changed HAHA still hope yall enjoy :)

Chaeyoung supposes this isn’t kidnapping. 

The grounds alone aren’t convincing enough of a testimony, not even factual. For one, kidnapping is absolutely not consensual. That part, Chaeyoung already can’t attest to.

Jeongyeon made it clear where they were going (“It’s this super _rad_ place where everyone cool hangs out!”), and despite Mina’s surprising unflappable disposition, Chaeyoung still couldn’t wrap her mind around the agitation clawing at her chest. 

The uneasiness is something very unlikely of her, a teenager with enough pent-up angst in her system to rival that of the 70% water composition of her body. Everyone would expect the worst out of Chaeyoung–sometimes nothing at all–of course the girl with the chic image would never admit to perpetually obsessing over her near-perfect attendance. That would damage her bad girl reputation! 

And this is the 90s, particularly 1998, Chaeyoung has watched enough time travelling movies to know that she’s basically an embodied error in everyone’s memory here. The turnout, she will never be sure of–whether she’ll be able to go back to the present, wake up and everything is just a dream, or eventually cease to exist because of tampering with the past–but whichever the cost is, Chaeyoung is still a good kid and would very much not want to engrave her name on a police record on her second day in 1998. That would be ruining the essence of going incognito and leaving little to no trace at all.

Besides, as worried as Chaeyoung is–knowing how they’re basically skipping classes to go to some pool hall or something–she can’t deny the thrill surging inside of her in giant, engulfing waves.

Mina sits by the passenger, Jeongyeon behind the wheel, and they’re singing to SES’ I’m Your Girl. Chaeyoung, despite the clawing worry, feels liberated. 

Their destination is all but familiar to Chaeyoung. Traces of the diner she grew accustomed to at the present can still be found in the pool hall-slash-arcade. Or, the other way around. Deux in the present still holds a peculiar but winsome feel to it, now, however, just a little bit more. 

Instead of retro diner counters and table booths with red leather seats, Deux is now filled with red felt pool tables in the center, surrounded by a wide array of coin-op machines with classic arcade games like Metal Slug, Daytona, and Mortal Kombat, just a few of what looks like a hundred more options. It’s very congested and barely ventilated, reeking off a mix of the cigarette odor and stench of beer, but Chaeyoung dismisses it as part of the nostalgic package. 

The older rowdy boys surround the pool tables, aggressively shouting, making bets, and just being boys. The girls hang by the sides with their bubblegums and cigarettes, seated on the swiveling high-chairs placed by the arcade games. The younger kids hang by the coin-op machines, aggressively pounding on buttons and control gears as if their lives depended on it.

This is the type of place parents would hate their children going to or hanging at. It would be a waste of their time and money. Maybe that’s why it's popular among the teenagers. The 90s had _always_ been an epoch of youth expression and artistic rebellion. 

Despite the growing discomfort from inhaling clouds of secondhand smoke and the rowdy boys eyeing them up and down like vultures on a prey, Chaeyoung finds herself feeling familiar and enchanted by the place. Especially with Jeongyeon looking like a kid freed to play in her playground. 

Jeongyeon takes Chaeyoung and Mina to another portion of the place, past the arcades and pool tables. They exit through some kind of old frosted glass door and end up in a back-alley with red brick walls and asphalt ground. It reeks of garbage and smoke.

It looks just as what Chaeyoung woke up to yesterday, after the entire time-travelling ordeal, except now, there are people hanging out and smoking cigarettes. A group of scary-looking people, with one a little more intimidating than the others. 

She has long, jet black hair and a pretty innocent-looking face with a pointed chin and flushed cheeks against alabaster skin, a far contrast to the hot red lipstick, the tattoos on her arms, and the cigarette in her hold. She’s deceptively beautiful, in her high-waisted denim jeans, black strap top, and pink faux fur coat halfway worn, slung across elbows like a shawl.

The girl flashes a smile that instantly knocks Chaeyoung’s breath away. She looks at where it’s directed at and sees Jeongyeon reflecting the same beam. They seem to know each other.

“Jeong brought some girlfriends over!” She exclaims with a snicker, her friends laughing behind her. The girl, perched up on her elbows, leaning back on a stack of beer cases, pushes herself to a stand and walks over to the _guests_.

An aroma of grey smoke and tar-infested lungs fan into Chaeyoung and Mina’s space. While Mina handles it way better, stifling back the tiniest scrunching of her nose at the stench, Chaeyoung downright coughs at the smell, to the wayward amusement of the girl. 

“I didn’t know you were into the polyamorous stuff, Jeong”, she quips before taking a lungful of the cigarette and exhaling it away from Chaeyoung’s face. _She has manners, thankfully._

Jeongyeon lets out a labored cackle, heartbreakingly awkward, before drawing in a breath and introducing the peculiarly enchanting girl, “Mina, Chaeyoung, this is Yerin.” 

“The one and only love of Yoo Jeongyeon’s life.” Yerin tugs a lopsided smirk at her red-stained lips. 

Chaeyoung actually sees the way Mina draws at her breath and stills for a moment beside her. It looked as if Mina had just been caught stealing by the owner. Chaeyoung can’t say she doesn’t feel the same. Although her face doesn’t react the similar way, her breath still hitches and her eyes only blink and dart glances between this unabashed girl and Jeongyeon herself, looking for confirmation.

She gets it in the form of an audacious laugh and flustered cheeks. Mina’s apparent paling and Chaeyoung’s agitated blinking must be some sort of unconventional amusement for Jeongyeon’s friend. 

“I was just joking. You should’ve seen your faces!” She cackles wildly and, as if she couldn’t get any more inexplicable, stops laughing right after. “Or was I…?”

Jeongyeon must have sensed the discomfort radiating from Mina and Chaeyoung because she steps in on the conversation almost immediately, letting out an awkward chuckle. “She was, don’t worry.” She turns to her friend, “Yerin, these are Mina and Chaeyoung, new friends of mine from school.” 

Unlike Mina, Chaeyoung reaches out for a shake. She’s startled by the girl’s uncanny personality, unabashed humor, and unearthly beauty, but it doesn’t mean she shouldn’t be polite. “Hello, I’m Son Chaeyoung. It’s nice to meet you.” 

Yerin only looks down at her hand, as if assessing it like a ticking bomb. 

A second of silence becomes five, and then ten, and Chaeyoung finds herself retracting her hand uncomfortably. _So maybe she isn’t polite…_

“I’m sorry”, Yerin utters in a tone a bordering a playful tease and genuine guilt. She raises her right hand. Shows her cigarette stick. “My hand’s holding something.”

Chaeyoung offered her right hand. The girl just didn’t want to shake it.

“This one is too young, Jeong...” Yerin exhales another whiff of her cigarette. The butt is almost nearing the other end. 

Chaeyoung takes it, she's “ _this_ ” now. 

Mina visibly recoils a little when Yerin steps into her space and eyes her up and down like a wolf checking out its prey. She steps back just as fast. 

“And this one is too innocent for you.” A scoff leaves red-stained lips as Yerin throws the cigarette away and crushes it with the sole of her shoe. “I didn’t think you’d change your preferences after me _that_ easily, Jeong _._ ” 

With the shift in Jeongyeon’s usual charisma and the way Yerin has easily maneuvered through the maze-like structures of the soccer captain’s aloof nature, Chaeyoung pretty much confirms Jeongyeon’s denials are, for the lack of better term, her worst act yet.

Jeongyeon would have made a bad actress with the way she tries to pretend nothing is going on–or nothing _has_ gone on–between her and this _cooler_ bad girl, Yerin. 

“Uh...Yerin and I go way back”, she eventually utters once she’s collected in all the giddy and awkward sense of it. Yerin’s nursing a bottle of beer beside her, snorting at the clumsy tone.

Mina must _really_ not be having a good time because she’s the first one who interjects, in a tone Chaeyoung would describe as graceful indignation bordering impatience. “ _Really_? How far?” 

It’s awkward to the highest degree and Chaeyoung must really be a magnet for it because it’s happening again while she’s in the middle. Although this time, it’s with an unlikely group of people. 

“Um, she used to go to Apgujeong and was a member of the cheer squad”, Jeongyeon explains, oblivious to Mina’s apparent vexation. 

"Of all the things, you've decided to introduce me with that", Yerin snorts, rolling her eyes.

"You were a cool cheerleader!"

"Cooler than–…"

"Why don't you show them that routine you hated so much?" Jeongyeon is trying _way_ too much, Chaeyoung can see, and it's really sad how she’s failing at it.

Yerin smirks and narrows her eyes at Jeongyeon, as if watching her cave in. Jeongyeon doesn't. She only looks desperate.

Yerin relents and quickly puts away her beer. To everyone's surprise, she clasps her hands together in the most pathetic cheerleader way and starts yelling out the infamous Apgujeong Eagles chant. Her face, however, is perfecting a dramatic look of distaste and mockery.

Mina only cocks a brow at the proud display, obviously not amused. Jeongyeon is flustered. All of Yerin's other friends are having way too much fun and way too much drinks.

"Okay. I'm going to go inside and look at the arcade." Mina must have enough. She walks away easily and without any other word. 

There’s franticness on Jeongyeon’s step, a mere foot stepping forward to chase after the girl slowly disappearing from sight. Chaeyoung only watches by the sides as Yerin pulls Jeongyeon back with her words, careful but drawing.

“What made you drop by, Jeong?” 

“Oh…uh...” Obviously, this Yerin must be equally powerful over the soccer captain because Jeongyeon ends up staying and letting Mina go.

The unnerving desire is still there though. Jeongyeon only tries to stifle it back. Keyword: tries. Chaeyoung can see the obvious uneasiness in the Jeongyeon through the way she cautiously glances at the door behind them, as if Mina would reappear.

When she doesn’t, Jeongyeon goes back to a halfhearted Yerin. “I just wanted to show Mina and Chaeyoung around the city, the cool spots.” 

“Have you showed them to the secret hideout?" 

Jeongyeon shakes her head no and lets out an airy laugh. "Nayeon is going to kill me if I do." 

At the mention of her mother's name, Chaeyoung catches the perfect instance of Jeongyeon flinching at her own words and Yerin smirking profoundly, in a manner that would make anyone uneasy. She had just skillfully bulldozed through a carefully-built façade. 

Chaeyoung is going to give this woman the credit. She's been effortlessly knocking Jeongyeon's whimsical excuse of a pretending game down with her sharp wit and straightforward words. _She’s good._

"Ah, I should have known." Yerin lets out a guffaw that's more of disappointment than humor. She only holds her palm out at one of her friends and they supply her with a red pack of cigarettes, the cool ones.

"This is about Nayeon again, huh…" Yerin takes a stick out and offers it somewhere in the middle, as if to see who would reach out for a glimpse of their future death-bed.

The silence is unbearable and heavy between Jeongyeon and Chaeyoung.

Of course, the little rebel wouldn’t cave in. Aunt Jihyo has put it out there very clear how smoking ruins everyone’s lives. It’s your body’s deterioration in exchange for temporary bliss.

Chaeyoung’s silence is for Jeongyeon.

Yoo Jeongyeon, Chaeyoung’s short-lived role model, is _actually_ darting wary glances between the cigarette on Yerin’s soft-looking palm and Chaeyoung’s innocent-looking frantic eyes, signifying her crumbling defense. 

_I can’t believe this. Is she actually going to smoke right in front of—_

“Step away from the bad influence!”

“YOO JEONGYEON I WILL KILL YOUR ASS!" 

For the first time since meeting this inexplicably fascinating girl, Chaeyoung sees Yerin genuinely laugh. And laugh. Hard. Until she's clenching on her stomach and holding on to the stack of beer cases for balance. 

"Oh my god! HAHAHA" She exclaims, wheezing. "Park Jihyo I did _not_ expect you to be...HAHA...that vulgar! God!" Yerin laughs for a few more seconds before taking a deep breath and finally getting herself together.

"Gosh, I didn't expect the Superman Revenge Squad to come so soon!"

"Yeah?" Jihyo grabs Chaeyoung and drags her back, somehow shoves her to the protection circle consisting of Dahyun, aunt Sana, and aunt Momo, and then proceeds to deal with the situation. _Hostilely_. "I am going to kick your _fucking_ ass, Yoo Jeongyeon! I swear! What the heck were you thinking bringing Mina and Chaeyoung with you here?! _HERE!_ Of all the places, you bring them _here!_ "

"You speak as if this hasn't been your old hangout, Jihyo–"

"Not. Now. Yerin." 

As if the matters couldn't exponentially grow from a dog barking to a lion roaring, it does exactly so. Nayeon sees it. The small stick of finely cut tobacco rolled in white paper, lying on the asphalt ground, sticking out like a sore thumb in the greyness.

"What's that?" 

Jihyo's scolding is cut short. All eyes turn to where the cheer captain is looking at. The cigarette stick. 

Yerin speaks up first, with enough snide to demonstrate just what her sentiments are on Im Nayeon. "It's a cigarette, Im. An American blend red THIS cigarette." 

The reprimanding halts and an entirely new wave of intense silence surges among everyone. 

Here's the thing: a silent Jihyo is more lethal than any kind. It's like her last bullet to use, well-calculated and even more meticulous, with every intention of inflicting pain (or death in Jeongyeon's case) at anyone it’s aimed at.

"Were you smo–…" 

Jihyo doesn't get to finish. In their current predicament, the last bullet becomes Im Nayeon. 

"We're going. Come on." 

She grabs Jihyo by the wrist and whoever her other hand can hold on to (it's Chaeyoung), and drags them inside. No one talks. Sana and Momo look for Mina in the arcade.

Jeongyeon follows behind like a kid about to get the scolding. Frankly, there's not quite any difference. 

They eventually exit Deux alive, with Mina, and reeking of cigarette smoke and beer. There are cars parked outside but Jeongyeon recognizes Sana's Porsche immediately, a car away from Jackson's Wrangler. Jihyo somehow manages to convince Chaeyoung and the other girls to get in any of the vehicles.

The girls don't need to hear anything. This conversation only needs the three of them. 

Once it's only the three of them in the clear space of the parking lot, Jihyo begins.

"Fix this. Now."

Her voice is soft but stern, laced with that authority she holds on everything. She sounds like an older sister gently scolding her younger siblings, like an unappreciative mother who can only show her affection and concern through tough love. 

Nayeon is standing a meter away from Jeongyeon, rubbing circles on her temple with one hand while the other stays on her hip. She can't even look at the girl before her.

"Fix what? Jihyo, there's nothing to be–…" 

"FIX EVERYTHING!" 

The parking lot stills around them, the tension arrives in a split second. It is the first time Jihyo has ever used the tone. She was always the one who absorbed situations and responded more than reacted, dampened situations rather than adding fuel to the flames. 

The shock is evident in everyone, in the way Nayeon looks up, the way Jeongyeon feels her throat dry, and the way even the girls inside the car freeze, Jihyo’s voice resonating in muffled sounds yet carrying the same amount of intensity in them. 

"You two have been up your asses ever since I could think of, and I don't know what the hell happened with your _fuck buddy_ arrangement and temporary bubble of happiness but I told you both it would destroy us and it did! NOW LOOK! IT LEFT US AND EVERYONE AROUND US IN RUINS!"

It was evident, Jihyo had enough of it. _Had enough of them._

“I am _NOT_ going to sit back anymore and let you two pretend your issues with each other don’t exist! You’re both tornadoes ruining everything in your wake! And when you two fight, it’s ugly and mean, and it leaves every one of us as collateral damage! I’M SICK OF IT!” 

Jihyo makes her way to the nearby trash bin and picks up an empty bottle on the ground and a plastic knife haphazardly beside it. She throws them at Jeongyeon and Nayeon’s direction. “Do you want to fight again? Then go, FIGHT! Hurt each other if you want to! Those are your weapons. I don’t care anymore! WE’RE NOT LEAVING UNTIL YOU TWO SORT YOUR SHIT OUT!”

Maybe it’s the arena prepared for them or the temptation to just let everything out, or maybe it’s the weight of the words on Nayeon’s lips, all slipping out in a steady voice that holds more anger than the pain she wants to project. Whatever it is, Nayeon takes the bait. 

“Why don’t you blame the reckless girl for trying to get everyone involved? Right, Jeongyeon? Isn’t that what you do best? Get everyone involved? Or wait, I think I have it wrong.” Nayeon snarls. She takes a step closer, lessening the distance. “It’s _you_ who gets involved with everyone.”

Jeongyeon thinks she really shouldn’t be letting Nayeon’s words get to her. It’s what Nayeon has always been good at. Manipulation. Every move is well-calculated, to be able to push everyone’s buttons. She really thinks she shouldn’t be stooping down low and letting herself get affected. 

But she does, anyway.

“Everyone?” Every word out of Im Nayeon’s lips is a well-thrown punch at her chest. “ _I’m_ getting involved with everyone?”

“Well, first it was Yerin. And then Mina. But then you wanted more and you got them both. To top it all off, you even brought Chaeyoung along in your mess.” Nayeon shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “It’s not _everyone_. But it’s enough to annoy a lot of people.” 

“A lot of people or you?” 

Jeongyeon had always been a steady person, had always thought before she let her words out. Unlike Nayeon who fought every hurdle with ferocity, like a soldier designed for combat, Jeongyeon was a strategist who stayed at the back.

Nayeon responded in statements that resembled the sharp edges of a delicate, harmless piece of paper slicing through Jeongyeon’s skin. Jeongyeon reacted with words as short as bullets would be small, harmless in sight but fatal when loaded.

“This isn’t about the damn unused cigarette stick or your innate, unexplainable hatred over Yerin.”

***

_(Nayeon planned to quit the squad in her junior year._

_Although she decided to give it a shot since trying out last year, a multitude of reasons led to her decision, two of which are the main forces that drove her to her ultimatum. One, the cheer squad prioritized 22-inch waistlines in uniforms that could pass off as a bikini bra and some slutty skirts, more than they should prioritize the cheer routines itself; and two, Jeongyeon had made it clear that Nayeon choosing to join the squad was a choice made over their friendship._

_The sporadic silent treatment only lasts a couple of days but Nayeon could feel the burning gaze of dismay everytime she had to leave for training, and the subtle guilt-tripping whenever Jeongyeon wanted to do something but the cheer dancer had to go for a rain check because of her new schedule._

_The sudden shift in their friendship was glaring, colossal, and obvious, and while Jeongyeon had been doing an oscar-worthy of a performance pretending it didn't exist, ignoring the change was like failing to see the aftermath of a major earthquake._

_So yes, Nayeon choosing to quit the team was an easy decision made. It was a bunch of girls with 19-inch waistlines and fetishes for boys in baggy pants, over Yoo Jeongyeon, with their secret races at the track field after class hours and carefully-decided roles in Hello Kitty (Nayeon obviously was Kitty White. Jeongyeon accepted My Melo without any hesitation)._

_So, Nayeon planned to quit the squad. For Jeongyeon._

_But she stayed. Because of Jeongyeon too._

_It happens on her supposed last afternoon training with the squad, a few weeks after a new girl had gotten in through the tryouts._

_Nayeon planned on talking to Nana, the captain, during their practice after class. Since Coach Hyojin was around, the attendance was diligently recorded. Every member got the phone call last night. No one was allowed to miss training because the routine was crucial and adjusted to fit the squad perfectly._

_They couldn’t start that day’s afternoon practice because one member was missing. Surprisingly, they ask Nayeon about it._

_Nayeon looked like deer caught in the headlights, mouth agape and eyes dilated. The other seniors snickered at her behind Coach Hyojin and team captain Nana._

_Nayeon questions herself why they’re asking her. Was she supposed to know about the new girl’s whereabouts just because they were in the same year? There was Sana too! Sure, Nayeon was a social butterfly and had practically made new friends everywhere she went, but she had personal standards too. Only certain people sparked her interest and deserved her friendship._

_Why would the team possibly assume that she was friends with the quiet, timid girl?_

_“We thought you’d know her since…” Nana tries to explain. She trails off and purses her lips in a direction over Nayeon’s shoulders. “...since she’s been hanging out with your girlfriend a lot.”_

_Nayeon can barely think of anything else, can’t even coax out any word. Yoo Jeongyeon looks dashing in her bare minimum, with her sleep-mussed hair and a Nirvana shirt underneath her unbuttoned uniform. Beside her walks a girl Nayeon recognizes is the other new member, in her cheer uniform, cradling books in hand and a drawstring slung on one shoulder._

_They’re walking to the field together, towards where the cheer squad is gathered, unheeding to the daggering gazes of the team directed at them–Nayeon’s, lingering hurt more than frustration._

_It doesn't slip her mind that she's already answered back to the team captain, correcting the wrong assumption when there are a lot of things to correct. “She’s not my girlfriend, unnie.”_

_She would’ve fooled everyone if only she didn’t stare at the new girl so badly, as if Jeongyeon hadn’t been doing the same._

_What happened to not liking the people from the cheer squad? What happened to not liking the cheerleaders? And the new girl? As far as Nayeon was concerned, she didn’t even exist until she miraculously got in the team with her interpretative dance to Sunny. Why the hell was Jeongyeon hanging out with her?_

_A lot of questions surge inside Nayeon’s mind, enough to make her sit out for the first half of the training. She tries to make use of it with an attempt to talk to Jeongyeon. Keyword: attempt. The latter immediately dodges her with a solid excuse of an important class._

_It’s a different kind of pain when Nayeon realizes how the new girl had managed to talk to Jeongyeon and spend more time with her in one afternoon than Nayeon had been able to, in a span of months._

_Nayeon joins the team practice later that afternoon, with even more vigor and a dashing amount of bitterness towards this girl._

_This girl who had done nothing but the bare minimum in everything–often showed up late during practice and didn’t even do much–yet she manages to get something Nayeon had been working her ass off for so long: even just a fragment of Yoo Jeongyeon's attention._

_Even though she hasn’t done anything, literally, this girl must be doing something right because she’s everything Nayeon thinks Jeongyeon wouldn’t like–timid, passive, and to top it all off, a cheerleader–and yet she has Jeongyeon wrapped around her little fingers, as if they were the freshmen besties and dorm roommates, inseparable since first year high._

_Nayeon hasn’t even spoken to the girl and yet she knows, she already hates her.)_

***

“It’s about _you_. It’s about me annoying _you_. It’s about everything that I do and how all of it annoys _you_.” Jeongyeon has always been a strategist, a sly fox. She knew it instantly from the shift in Nayeon’s eyes that her words had hit a mark, like a perfectly executed battle plan. 

And like a soldier at the phase of death, Nayeon recoils. “What the hell are you talking about? Why the hell is this about me?”

“Because it’s always been about _you_ , Nayeon.” 

“ _ME_?! You’re the one picking fights all the time!” Burning rage hisses through Nayeon’s body like poison. The wrath from the truth consumed every nook and cranny of her body. “Don’t you _dare_ tell me I’m the bad person here when it was _you_ who started all of this!”

“I started all of this?” Beneath the layer of composure, Jeongyeon could feel the anger searing inside of her clawing up at her chest. “Who the _fuck_ thought being a cheerleader meant you’re suddenly way too cool for a friend!? Who the _fuck_ left first?”

“You did, Jeongyeon. _You did._ ” 

“Well you must be stupider than I thought you’d be.” 

Nayeon doesn’t look Jeongyeon in the eyes, don’t dare to when her armor is slowly slipping away. “You were slipping away!” _Like a handful of sand slipping through the spaces in between my fingers._

“And you thought _leaving me_ was the best solution to that!?”

“Well _you_ must be more selfish than I thought you’d be!” There’s a fire exploding inside of Nayeon’s chest. It’s painful, it's bare, and it pushes her to the edge of the cliff. “You think I’d stay when you treated me like a piece of trash!? You AVOIDED me, Jeongyeon! You _fucking_ threw me away!”

Jeongyeon dodges a plastic bottle thrown in her direction. The eyes that were once filled with so much purpose and love were now replaced with bitterness and spite. Nayeon looked at her as if they were no more than strangers with history fighting out in the open, for the whole world to see and judge who would crumble first. 

(Clue: it’s not her.)

“YOU HAD A CHOICE! AND YOU MADE IT!” Nayeon’s lungs are screaming for help. Her heart feels like it’s burning to ashes. No longer did Nayeon feel in control of her emotions. Word after word was a weapon aimed right at Jeongyeon, revenge for _everything_. “You chose _Yerin_ over our friendship just like how you’re choosing everybody else over me right now!”

“Now it’s about choices?” Jeongyeon remains calm despite the pain it stung when the first tear rolled down Nayeon’s cheeks. “Well, guess what Nayeon. YOU HAD A CHOICE TOO! Instead of talking to me about _everything_ , you decided to leave! That was your choice!” 

“How the hell was I going to talk to you when avoided me at all cost!?””

“Was it easier to believe what the cheerleaders told you about Yerin and me instead?!” 

***

_(The day, so far, had been weird to say the least._

_Jeongyeon had always been a quiet kid at the sidelines with rare moments under the spotlight whenever she was with Nayeon. Sure, she was a new member of the popular girls soccer team. But still. Other than that, Jeongyeon was just a normal junior._

_Now that Nayeon was out of the picture–or in this case, rarely in the picture because of her schedule–Jeongyeon returned to being a fulltime normal kid._

_Until that day._

_Morning was, like the usual, normal in the dorm. Jeongyeon woke up to an empty bed beside her. Nayeon left for a morning run that would usually last up to after Jeongyeon had left the dorm for school._

_Everything went normal. She walked to school alone–a normal occurrence nowadays because Nayeon had been lacking in presence–and bought a snack from the mini-mart in the canteen before entering the building through the back door and walking to her locker._

_Everything went normal until it didn’t._

_The first unusual thing was the uproar of the usual throng of students down the hall suddenly silencing collectively, replaced by hushed murmurs and scrutinizing leers. Jeongyeon looked up from her locker and saw everyone glancing in the same direction, somewhere down the hall._

_What followed was the second unusual thing that day. It was Yerin actually walking down this hall when her locker was at the opposite side, gracefully strutting along the corridor in her uniform and Ralph Lauren sweater._

_The third unusual thing wasn’t unusual at all. All gazes were directed at Yerin. Although not as popular as Nayeon, Yerin was still a part of the cheerleading squad and anyone a part of it was looked up to by most of the school population._

_What was unusual was the kind of gaze. It wasn’t the kind of gawking that rendered someone flattered, the kind of stare that the esteemed popular students received. It was the kind that made every inch of Jeongyeon’s system anxious for Yerin. The kind that had questions engulfing her entire mind._

_Yerin stopped by Jeongyeon’s locker, expectedly. Jeongyeon was just about to greet her, but what had transpired next was the fourth unusual thing that day._

_It came in fast and Jeongyeon was left staggering back a little with. A little red welt had been left behind, followed by a stinging pain on her cheek that was soon overcome by the shock of realizing its perpetrator had been Yerin._

_Yerin just slapped her in front of everyone._

_“W-What…”_

_“Fucking fix that friend of yours or I will.”_

_Everyone was a spectator and everyone saw how Jeongyeon was left like gaping and clutching her stinging cheek, watching as Yerin walked away with no other word._

_Later that day, Jeongyeon found out someone in the cheerleading team had seen Yerin in Deux kissing some girl that looked like Jeongyeon herself. Whoever it was, word had gotten out and the seniors of the cheerleading team had collectively decided to remove a “potential threat” to the girls in the squad because someone in the team had suggested the sanction._

_Nayeon had come back to the dorm that night, exhausted from training. When Jeongyeon had tried bringing up the topic and clearing things off--because according to Sana, it was Nayeon’s idea to remove Yerin in the team--the cheerdancer only shut the door to the bathroom at her face._

_The fifth unusual occurrence had followed a few days after. Despite the scrutiny on Baek Yerin being kicked off the team for being a lesbian, no word had gotten out about how the other girl seen with her allegedly looked like Jeongyeon._

_Jeongyeon was never mentioned in anything. The only drama she was involved in was the slap but everybody else was imaginative enough to conjure up false stories about it and shrug it off easily._

_A month into the happening, Baek Yerin dropped out of school._

_And Jeongyeon was never the same since._

_Ever since then, the rift in Nayeon and Jeongyeon’s friendship had begun growing. With neither of the two contributing any effort to stop it, the shift had ultimately resulted in the demise of their relationship. Jeongyeon no longer cared for Nayeon the same way._

_They were over before it even began.)_

***

“You don’t know _anything_ about that day, Jeongyeon.” Nayeon hisses through gritted teeth, wiping away a trail of her tears. “You don’t have _any idea_ what hell I had to go through to save your ass from getting humiliated!”

“YOU GOT A GIRL DROP OUT OF SCHOOL, NAYEON!” Jeongyeon’s voice is ripping through the seams of their poorly-stitched up past. “AM I SUPPOSED TO THANK YOU FOR THAT!? WAS THAT SAVING MY ASS!?”

“You don’t know _anything_ –...”

“THEN FUCKING ENLIGHTEN ME!”

“IF THE SCHOOL FOUND OUT YOU WERE SLEEPING AROUND WITH GIRLS AND YOU’RE A GIRL, THEN YOU’RE DONE, JEONGYEON! NOBODY’S EVER GOING TO LOOK AT YOU THE SAME WAY EVER AGAIN! YOU’RE GOING TO BE A TOTAL OUTCAST!”

Jeongyeon lets out an exasperated groan. “For _god’s sake_ , it wasn’t ME! You honestly believed those stupid rumors?! YERIN DIDN’T KISS ME!”

The tables have turned now. Nayeon looks like the collected one with her resigned sigh. “Whatever. They believed it and the only way I could save you from becoming a social pariah was if I took matters into my own hands.” 

“You thought that was saving me?” Jeongyeon wonders if this is what having your heart ripped out of your chest feel like. Is there the slightest possibility for it to hurt even more? For the damage to be even more devastating? 

“Nayeon, the only person you were saving there was yourself.” 

_There is._

“Did it ever occur to you that I didn’t care about what other people thought of me? That I was willing to risk everything for the sake of loving someone freely? For the sake of having a friend?” 

“ _I_ was your friend! Don’t–...” 

“YOU LOST THAT TITLE THE MOMENT YOU THOUGHT YOU KNEW WHAT WAS GOOD FOR ME!”

The tension that comes is earth-shattering, and while their friendship no longer existed and what replaced it was purely beneficial to sate their teenage hormones, Jeongyeon liked to believe there was an inkling of bond between them. The bond that had existed before, the bond formed between the obnoxiously loud freshman and the cool new transferee. The bond between Nayeon, Kitty White, and Jeongyeon, My Melody. The bond that was supposed to last forever.

How wrong was Jeongyeon... 

"That stunt you pulled didn't _save_ me. It saved your face from humiliation, from embarrassment for hanging around with someone who liked the same sex." It's funny how they completely forgot Jihyo existed, that Jihyo had finally found out about what happened between her two friends. It's also funny how the first time Jihyo sees Jeongyeon cry, it's in a parking lot in front of the whole world to see.

 _But Jeongyeon didn't see that._ Her _whole world was looking away._

"You know what? You were wrong." Jeongyeon shrugs her shoulders, however, the lack of energy doing it might have made it look like her shoulders were moving along her intake. She was just _done._ " _I_ _am_ the stupid one between us. You wanna know why?"

"Jeongyeon…"

"No. I'm exhausted of having to pick fights with you because confronting you would mean changing the routine. I'm tired of having to live through every single day forcing myself to hate you, Nayeon. Let me _fucking_ finish." 

Jeongyeon takes a deep breath. Her throat feels like sandpaper scratching against each other whenever she had to shout to let the anger out. 

"You wanna know why I'm stupid?" 

Nayeon wants to shake her head _no._ But all she's left doing is staring and staying still. 

"Because I had a _mountain_ of reasons to hate you, Nayeon. _You_ had Yerin leave the team and drop out of school because she was a lesbian. _You_ thought you saved me in junior year but what the fuck happened a few months ago? _You_ blame me for slipping away? _You_ left me first. _You_ were the first person I came out to when we were sophomores. _You_ knew everything about me.” Jeongyeon doesn’t hold back the crack in her voice. “Being friends with me became a burden to you and I'm so _stupid_ to stay and let you do the things you did even after all this time. And you know what's the worst? I'm so _fucking_ stupid for falling in love with someone like you, Im Nayeon." 

***

( _Jeongyeon only realized what it was the morning after._

_On the third time they did it during the break before the senior year began._

_An innate part of her told her to justify things. It’d be easier to liken what just happened to the latest memory in Jeongyeon’s mind, the one that doesn’t involve Nayeon’s touches and the sounds she made._

_Jeongyeon remembered the four stages of how drugs move within the body._

_The first stage was administration, the manner of how the drugs enter the system._

_There are six routes that can be taken by the foreign substance. In Jeongyeon’s case, the intoxication invaded_ _her entire being in more ways than one._

_It began when she met eyes with a pair of jet black oceans looking solemnly into her soul, as if whatever word Nayeon would utter would be of utmost importance and nothing else mattered other than that._

_It drew Jeongyeon into a force she couldn’t escape, a magnetic attraction to the eyes that soon pulled her close and limited whatever distance was between them. There entered the second drug: an unusual combination of her Jihyo’s lilac hand wash and whiffs of floral, musky perfume here and there._

_The last attack was the most crucial. The feeling of soft, luscious lips in contact with Jeongyeon’s own was the nail to her coffin that set her on fire._

_Even without anything to compare it with, the kiss was like an explosion of nerves in her system. Her entire body was on shutdown mode and she let herself navigate through the feeling of intimate contact without any control, fluidly moving along with Nayeon’s lips._

_It wasn’t the most likely situation. The first time they kissed, it was in some schoolmate’s house over at a party with the entire varsity population present. They were in a room and Jeongyeon had high tolerance for alcohol but Nayeon didn’t. A few bottles were involved here and there, and while Jeongyeon was completely sober, Nayeon wasn’t and she had pressed her into the door and kissed her like there was no tomorrow._

_Nayeon had entered Jeongyeon’s system like a drug since then. And with the next stage came along the feeling of Nayeon being carried out into Jeongyeon’s body, fitting herself in every nook and cranny of the soccer captain’s life._

_It was the second stage, the distribution, that was partially responsible for the unintended side-effects of the drugs to the body, more specifically, the organs._

_Kissing Nayeon had Jeongyeon’s heart beating erratically, doubling her normal pulse rate, eventually triggering immense pressure onto Jeongyeon’s system to keep up because even though it was her first kiss, giving a good first impression was of utmost importance._

_Kissing Nayeon had left imprints on Jeongyeon’s lips that she feared she would never be able to get rid of._

_The after-effects of Nayeon were spreading out to Jeongyeon’s entire body, planting itself on spaces Jeongyeon would rather have unoccupied because putting Nayeon and her lips on the front of her mind and not the soccer training and school was the last thing she should be doing. Engraving the sensation of Nayeon’s warm touch on the pads of her fingers only led Jeongyeon to even more trouble, yearning and craving for something she should not be bothering herself with in the first place._

_It left her to her current state, phase three: metabolism._

_After occupying spaces in Jeongyeon’s life that should not be inhabited, Nayeon leaves Jeongyeon’s body wanting more._

_It has finally dawned on her that Nayeon is a drug and her body is not doing so well resisting it. Instead, it was doing the exact opposite, processing the effects of Nayeon and leaving Jeongyeon desiring for more.)_

***

“I shouldn’t have let that happen. I’m _so_ stupid for it. But you know what? I was wrong too.” The air stirs in a calming way that doesn’t really mean everything has calmed down. For one thing, all of this meant they were nearing the end. 

“Nayeon”, Jeongyeon’s voice is steady. “ _You are the most selfish person I have ever met._ ” 

“Don’t you _fucking_ call me selfish when--...”

“You’re _greedy!_ You have a fucking boyfriend and you’re having sex with me? What would everyone think if they found out the most popular student was sleeping around, huh? That you spread those rumors about Mina sleeping with me because you’re afraid what happened with Yerin would happen again.” Jeongyeon snarls. “You are such a hypocrite.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about? Why the hell am I the hypocrite here–...”

“You’re so afraid of everyone leaving you because your parents didn’t stay when you asked them to–—”

The distance isn’t even that short. When it happens, it feels like nothing. The pain didn’t come, the mark was there, but the only sign of shock came from the gasp that left Jihyo’s lips. Nayeon just slapped Jeongyeon. 

But Jeongyeon didn’t feel anything anymore. She continues even when she feels like she's the one most battered and bruised. 

“Y-You were so afraid of _everyone_ leaving. But when I promised to stay with you, _you_ decided to leave _me_.”

There were the tears, but she couldn’t even feel it trickling down the burning skin. “Because what, I liked girls? Funny, I would have believed that and lived on after what happened with Yerin, but you just _had_ to ram into my life again and ruin everything. Including me.” 

Nayeon feels the same, the nothingness, the loss burning into her, the pacified anger vaporized. This conversation had long been overdue and yet none of them were brave enough to face it. It was like a dormant volcano just waiting to erupt. 

The silence that engulfs the three of them is enormous and defiant, and no matter how much Nayeon wants to say something– _anything_ because nothing can beat out the truth from Jeongyeon–not a single word escapes her lips. In the literal sense of it, the words were knocked out of Nayeon's system. 

Jeongyeon looked done. Between them, she had been the pacifist. She held a good control over her emotions, always thought everything through before making a move. Nayeon had always been the straightforward one, had always felt indifferent over the things that could be damaged by her actions and words. Regret only came in third for her, after the realization of what she's done just when everything is already in ruins. 

When they first met in freshman year, Jeongyeon was a transferee from the province, unaware of the city trends. She was quiet but cool in Nayeon's eyes, always ahead of the crowd. While everyone had the magnetic back-to-back pencil cases with the built-in sharpener, eraser holder, and lots of colorful buttons, Jeongyeon had a fish pencil case that looked so real, when she first pulled it out from her bag, Nayeon actually screamed. 

From that moment on they became friends, and then the best of friends, and while Nayeon grew on to slowly climb the hierarchy of high school popularity, Jeongyeon stood by her side quietly and remained as the receiving end of Nayeon's hidden quirks and geekiness. To Jeongyeon, Nayeon could be real.

She had briefly wondered before then, if happiness was a person in someone's life, Jeongyeon would be hers. And she would do _everything_ to keep her happiness. 

"You...like me?" The first words that Nayeon had uttered stirred the atmosphere around them, from something so tense and painful, it becomes delicate, as if a single touch would cause its demise.

"Jeongyeon." 

Jeongyeon hears her perfectly but remains looking down.

Nayeon takes a step closer. By this time, only a few inches separate them. If Nayeon had to, she would reach out for the girl to look at her. 

"Look at me." 

So when Jeongyeon didn't, Nayeon did. 

( _Maybe it was then, the first time their friendship had changed._

_From uncertainty around each other, they had become the bare truth to one another. From freshman class partners doing lab activities and dodgeball parallels avoiding hitting each other afraid to hurt one another, they had become partners in crime sneaking the other out to the hall monitor to skip class and play pool at the arcade. They had become the first hand to hold when someone was afraid. They had become the anchor to each other when the other floated too high in the air._

_They had become something Nayeon was afraid they'd be._

_Because she was always so certain getting attached to someone would mean giving them a bigger portion of herself to hurt._

_So while junior year had been amazing, Nayeon let her fear take over because blinding herself to happiness would only cause too much pain in the end. She'd rather have the pain now than prolong the agony._

_Nayeon became everything she knew Jeongyeon wouldn't like.)_

Jeongyeon looks up when soft hands cradle her face into a trembling hold. When her eyes meet Nayeon's, Jeongyeon knew it. In this battle, both of them lost.

"Jeongyeon, I...I didn't know that."

"Of course you didn't." Jeongyeon snorts with the roll of her eyes. "I can make a damn good actress if I wanted to and I knew, you didn't want to have anything to do with my feelings." Her head remains leaning into Nayeon's touch. 

A scream, a yell, a fight, Nayeon wants to do everything just to pacify the searing desire inside of her. But there's the underlying fear of what everyone would think, of what losing her popularity meant, of what society would make of them. 

Nayeon wants and wants but she can't have what she desires. Even if what she wants the most is already standing in front of her. 

"Jeongyeon, I—"

"You cant." Jeongyeon pulls away and it hurts when she can't feel Nayeon's touch anymore. "I know. I understand." 

_No._ Nayeon feels the hollowness when Jeongyeon slowly retracts from her hold, slowly takes a step away from her. _Don't go._

"I…" The words only bubble at her throat. Even when Nayeon begs herself to say it, something tells her she has to hold it back. _Jeongyeon, I like you too._

But she doesn't say it in the end. She only watches as the fire sizzles to a spark between them, until it's nothing at all. The war that had lasted years and only gotten worse had finally ended now however, why does it feel like nobody won? Why does it feel like both of them had lost a big part of themselves trying to fight each other?

Jeongyeon turns to Jihyo. “Are we done now? Did we fix it, Jihyo?”

Nayeon looks at the younger girl, who’s just as stunned and broken as everyone else after what just happened.

“Uh…” Jihyo, for the first time, is out of words.

Jeongyeon scoffs. “Yeah. I think we are.”

_We’re done._

“I’m going to drive Jackson’s car. I’ll just follow behind you.” 

She leaves with no other word, walking towards the Wrangler where the other girls are in. Nayeon is left standing still in the parking lot alongside Jihyo, brain desperately scrambling to make sense of what just happened. 

_Jeongyeon, I like you too._

Nayeon wonders, after the volcano has erupted and destroyed everything in its wake, what happens next to those left in the ruins? 

_But I don’t think I can._

When Jihyo said fix this mess, did she mean to damage it more?

_Not when you’re right. I’ve ruined you._

What was left to damage more when Nayeon and Jeongyeon had long been a sad narrative?

_But you’re right again._

It was all about the girl who was afraid to love and be left behind, and the girl who loved but was pushed away. 

_Maybe I am greedy for you._

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this........i dont even know where to begin HAHA :') lo and behold, the dramatic history of jeongyeon and nayeon! Tell me your thoughts!! Please continue to read this and never get tired of it huhu 
> 
> "After the storm comes a calm, albeit a temporary one." 
> 
> #Twicein1998


	7. the language of flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Are there like, assigned meanings or something?" 
> 
> "There are." Tzuyu giggled. She had a blue art paper and some scissors in her hold. "They're called Floriography. Language of Flowers." 

It _was a 2017 summer art camp and as ridiculous as it sounded, it did exist and it was the last place Chaeyoung expected to find out what love truly meant._

_The summer art camp was Chaeyoung’s excuse not to spend a month and a few weeks alone with her mother, dying of boredom._

_Although the decision to sign herself up had garnered Chaeyoung mixed reactions–mostly on Yerim’s part; she had adamantly insisted that this was self-inflicted humiliation at its best–this was better than having to watch all of her friends spend quality time with their families while she would be stuck inside her room doing nothing._

_It was the perfect season for art camp anyways. The summer was slowly starting away with the right combination of the cool breeze and the warm sun, and the camp was a reconnecting-with-nature kind of event._

_When Chaeyoung had arrived at the venue a few days ago via the provided bus, the campsite wasn’t the ordinary log cabin kind of camping, nor was it the build-your-own-tent-and-suffer circumstance._

_The entire summer camping place was more of a glamorous event held in a modern house built right in the middle of the woods. Chaeyoung likened the house to the one used by the Cullen family in the Twilight series. It had wooden frames here and there but glass panels all the way, hence the reconnection with nature vibe._

_There were nice rooms provided; the main hall, where most of the gatherings were conducted, had one whole wall made out of glass that overlooked the tall trees. There were picnic tables scattered in the backyard, under the shades where most of the arts and crafting activities were held._

_It was a nice getaway from the city life and the entire mother-daughter ordeal Chaeyoung had going on with Nayeon._

_The only problem here was Chaeyoung, and how she wasn’t able to fully immerse herself in the whole reconnection with nature plan because of one enormous and significant detail she had failed to consider._

_The summer had just begun and traces of springtime could still be seen with the way the flowers were at their fullest blooms, trees and leaves were lush green, and butterflies flapped their wings in perfect sync with the majestic view._

_Outside was the perfect place to do art. Unfortunately for Chaeyoung, she had allergic rhinitis._

_Art had to be done within the confines of the art room somewhere on the second floor. The art room didn’t have the calming Cedar and Pine tree smell of the outside world; it didn’t have the wooden picnic tables; it didn’t have the nice cool breeze and the sound of nature playing around her._

_The art room was utterly boring and Chaeyoung slowly began regretting overlooking the summer art camp flyer’s subheading all about it being reconnecting with nature and being held in actual wilderness._

_(“They should include a disclaimer for those who have seasonal allergies…” she huffs while carrying her big ass art bag with her to the art room.)_

_It was all becoming an insufferable experience until one day, she wasn’t alone in the art room anymore._

_Chou Tzuyu came along at the most perfect timing (literally; Chaeyoung was trying to reach for the box of extra glue sticks stacked insultingly at the top shelf of the cabinet, and she could only do so much with her height), and as if it couldn’t get more magical, Yazoo’s Only You had began playing in the background while Chaeyoung watched the tall, beautiful girl reach for a basket of glue sticks._

_That day marked what could have been the greatest adventure and thrill of Son Chaeyoung’s life. Tzuyu had entered in the most mundane way possible and she had remained footed in Chaeyoung’s life ever since._

_Although Chaeyoung had managed to fool everyone with her words after that camp, she had never been so sure of something her entire life. Whatever she had with Tzuyu wasn’t just a summer fling. It may not have lasted as long as she had wanted, but Tzuyu came in perfectly and taught Chaeyoung things she would never have been able to figure out by herself._

_One of those things would be love._

_It was a lovely day for Tzuyu. The trees shaded their glass window from the afternoon sun’s rays. Although the calming crisp smell of wood didn’t infiltrate the room they were about to make art in, it was just as lovely and peaceful. The wooden table was placed by the window to face the beautiful wilderness outside. For today, they needed inspiration the most._

_It was a lovely day for Chaeyoung. When she entered the room, Tzuyu was already there. She was wearing a plain white shirt and some sweats with her long hair tied up in a ponytail that had strands hanging by the side of her face. While Chaeyoung looked like a hobo in her oversized hoodie, Tzuyu looked like the most beautiful person in the world in her sweats._

_Their project for that day was a simple one._

_“It’s supposed to be a piece about love.” Tzuyu spoke in her meek and saccharine voice accompanied by the small hint of playfulness. She brought out the materials from her tote bag._

_Chaeyoung had scoffed at the project. Their camp master got ahead of herself sometimes. A few days ago, they had to explore the forest for some dried leaves and twigs to use for their “preserved art” project that had something to do with the theme: negativity is useless when preserved._

_Rest assured, Chaeyoung had to stay in her room bundled in her covers the next two days because of her allergies. She spent the first day off questioning her decision and why she agreed to do the stupid project in the first place. It didn’t take long for her to realize why._

_It was all for the sake of spending more time with Tzuyu._

_She spent the second day out questioning what was the reason behind the desire to be with Chou Tzuyu. Was it because the girl smelled really nice? (like cotton candy and flowers, and everything amazing in the world) Was it because she was fun to be with and had a weird sense of humor? (“The middle school kids told me I looked like the green thing from that movie. I asked which one. They failed to answer but an intellectual told me it was Yoda from Star Wars.”) Or was it because...she liked Tzuyu?_

_Chaeyoung couldn’t find any answer for her question but there was one thing she was sure. Being with Tzuyu made her happy._

_(And when she called to ask Aunt Jihyo that night and asked about the difference between crushing on and falling in love with someone, the wise Park Jihyo had answered, “When you like someone, you have answers to all the questions. When you fall in love, it’s like nothing makes sense but you’re always left asking for more.”_

_Chaeyoung’s only response consisted of obscene language that earned her a scolding from her aunt.)_

_Today marked her return and here they were, doing a piece on love. Chaeyoung was absolutely fucked._

_"What are you making?"_

_Tzuyu began folding the art paper in her hold. "A flower."_

_Although it did not look like one yet, Chaeyoung already knew Tzuyu would end up with the most beautiful output. "For who?"_

_"My mom. She likes flowers."_

_The silence shared between them was shock and amazement at the same time. Tzuyu looked up from her focus on the paper and towards the dumbfounded girl beside her._

_A light chuckle escaped her lips. "What? You thought I'd make something for someone I like?"_

_"N-No! I…" Chaeyoung lied through her teeth. Her expectations have disappointed her yet again._

_"It's okay. I was joking." Tzuyu could sense the discomfort radiating from the girl beside her. "Love is universal, you know? I think that it doesn't and it shouldn't only pertain towards someone you share romantic feelings with. Love can also be thanking my parents for everything they've done for me."_

_It hit Chaeyoung like a train whiplash. Although she had yet to meet or hear tales about Tzuyu's parents, they already seemed better than her own mom. Despite this, however, Nayeon was still her mother and Tzuyu had a point. She had been so focused on depicting love as the girl beside her, she had been missing out on what love was overall._

_Love is universal._

_"Can you teach me how to make a flower too?"_

_The smile on Tzuyu's face was breathtaking. "Sure." She grabbed the pack of assorted art paper and slid it over to Chaeyoung's side. "What color would you want to use?"_

_"Are there like, assigned meanings or something?"_

_"There are." Tzuyu giggled. She had a blue art paper and some scissors in her hold. "They're called Floriography. Language of Flowers."_

_"Do I have to be fluent in that?"_

_A paused second ensued._

_"Was that supposed to be a bad joke?"_

_"I’m sorry." Chaeyoung hung her head low._

_"Nice attempt. Apology accepted.” Tzuyu let out a laugh, patting Chaeyoung's hoodie-clad head. “What kind of message do you want to send?"_

_"What are my options?"_

_"There are about four million species of flowers around the world. I'd say you have a lot of options…" Tzuyu teased albeit the sarcasm only reached halfway. Chaeyoung was staring at her as if trying to figure out an abstract painting. When a second became two, and Tzuyu remained mum, it was Chaeyoung’s clue to figure it out. “Oh! That was sarcastic! Wow, sorry…”_

_"God, why are we this awkward?” The tall girl let out an uneasy laugh, embarrassed. "Anyways, um, there are similar messages between flowers. If you look up Floriography, you’d find out white heather flowers mean wishes will come true, red roses and orchids are love, yellow roses mean friendship, and Daffodils are my favorite ones.”_

_“Wow…” Chaeyoung felt taken aback. “Why do you know so much about flowers? Is your mom a florist?”_

_“No”, Tzuyu chuckled. “But she does love arranging flowers in our house. We don’t need perfumes to smell nice anymore.”_

_Chaeyoung could imagine the growth of love and flowers in Tzuyu’s house. She spoke so much love with her mother’s name, Chaeyoung could only wish to do the same. “I bet your dad must be so problematic smelling like flowers everyday to work.”_

_“No, actually. We all love it. And, I don’t have a dad.” The uncertainty in Tzuyu’s tone made Chaeyoung look up. “I have two moms.”_

_“Wow…” If it were possible to fall for Chou Tzuyu even more, Chaeyoung would have been doing exactly so. “You’re one lucky kid then.”_

_Tzuyu smiled. “I am with them. They’ve always treated me like their own even if I was just adopted.” She stopped cutting the pink art paper and began creating ruffles out of them. “That’s why I’m making pink carnations. A symbol for a mother’s undying love.”_

_People like Tzuyu were the ones Chaeyoung envied the most. It wasn’t because she was effortlessly beautiful. It wasn’t because she had a wonderful soul and a brilliant mind. It was because she was happy and she had a family. She had a mother--two at that--and her parents were present in her life._

_Chaeyoung could blind herself with all the happiness in the world but none would ever satisfy her soul’s yearning for her own mom._

_“How about you? Are you going to make a flower for your parents too?”_

_The smaller girl only hummed. “I was planning to but it’s embarrassing now compared to yours.”_

_“It’s not a competition”, Tzuyu chuckled. “And besides, we all have different messages for love. What do you want to tell your parents?”_

_Chaeyoung wondered, out of all the things she had always wanted to tell her own mother, what one word would compensate for everything?_

_“Is there a flower for sorry?”_

_“A Purple Hyacinth.” Tzuyu picked up her phone from the table, typed on the search bar, and showed pictures of the flower to the girl beside her. “Its meaning dates back to the Greek mythology, about Apollo and Hyancinthus. Hyancinthus was a Spartan and while playing with Apollo, he was struck by a disc and died. Out of sadness and grief, flowers grew from Hyacinthus’ blood. Apollo named it after him. The Purple Hyacinth.”_

_They made flowers out of art paper that day. Chaeyoung made one for her mother. Tzuyu made three._

_The Purple Hyacinth was taped on a piece of paper and by Nayeon's door. When Chaeyoung walked past the door after her mother had come home from work, she saw nothing but an empty surface._

_Unfamiliar with the nerves settling in on her system, Chaeyoung hurried back to her room and slammed the door close. Nayeon had just gotten back from work._

_Chaeyoung busied herself with unpacking instead. She also had just returned from camp and the first thing she did was build up her own disappointment._

_“I really should stop expecting so much from--...”_

_She paused when she caught a yellow piece of paper peeking from underneath the mess in her bag. It was a yellow Daffodil when pulled out, wrinkled from the other things inside the bag but still looking beautiful, just like the one who signed a petal._

**_You never asked why it was my favorite. -Tzuyu_ **

_***_

_(Tzuyu didn’t answer any of Chaeyoung’s calls that night but a sequence of chiming intervened miraculously through what would have been a disastrous nightmare that involved a bus accident with blurred faces of people._

_Chaeyoung reached over the nightstand for her phone. The screen lit up to reveal a wonderful name heading a series of messages._

**_Green thing from that movie [23:13]_ ** _sorry i was in practice_ _  
_ **_Green thing from that movie [23:14]_ ** _did you see it already?_ _  
_ **_Green thing from that movie [23:17]_ ** _look it up if ur curious_

_Chaeyoung does exactly so but with the deep heaviness of interrupted sleep weighing on her eyelids and the thousands of images popping up from her searching, it was hard to figure out what exactly did Tzuyu want to tell._

_Thankfully, another message chimed._

**_Green thing from that movie sent an attachment. [23:24]._ **

_Chaeyoung pressed the attachment. It was a picture with a bunch of drawings of flowers and what their meanings were. Heading the image was: “Floriography, the Language of Flowers”._

_She zoomed in on the second flower. A drawing of a daffodil, Tzuyu’s favorite._

**_Daffodils_ ** **_  
_ ** _“The sun is always shining when I’m with you.”_

_Chaeyoung was a flustered mess that night, tossing and turning on her bed. There was just one thought that bothered her, however. It bothered enough to ask the other girl._

**_miniature cub [23:51]_ ** _but why did it rain when we left camp?_

_The reply never came after that.)_

_***_

Expecting a car with a canvas top and side curtains to filter out the obscene language and the intense arguments happening outside is like expecting to fill up a bucket full of holes with water. It’s pretty much useless.

Chaeyoung could hear all the profanities and harsh words screaming out of her mother’s mouth. Never in her entire life had she seen her mother so riled up and affected by someone. 

It ultimately leads her to the fight during detention, and how Nayeon and Jeongyeon were the same people arguing and screaming harsh words at each other. 

It’s as if the only person who can get the Hulk out of her mother is Yoo Jeongyeon. The awareness and the coincidence alone is enough to send Chaeyoung asking the two girls sitting beside her, Sana and Momo, “Do they...hate each other?”

There are only two possible explanations for this. Chaeyoung is trying to figure out which one it is.

“Who? Nayeon and Jeongyeon?” Aunt Sana--or aunt Momo? Chaeyoung has yet to figure _that_ out--clarifies, pursing her lips towards the direction of the ongoing heated battle between the two girls across the parking lot. 

Chaeyoung wordlessly nods all the while trying to connect the dots. Exactly who is this Yoo Jeongyeon that’s bringing out the _worst_ in her mother? It’s not even a complaint to begin with. Love and hate aren’t the opposites of the pole. The two great ends of polarity are love and _fear._ In the moment you meet your greatest love, you also realize your greatest fear. 

Chaeyoung remembers encountering a book she’d never thought she’d grow fond of. It was about conversations with God. She wasn’t the most religious person in the world but that series spoke about love in a manner Chaeyoung never knew would be possible. 

It describes fear as the energy which contracts, closes down, draws in, runs, hides, hoards, harms; Love is the energy which expands, opens up, sends out, stays, reveals, shares, heals. Fear grasps, love lets go. When fear rankles, love soothes. When fear attacks, love amends.

If Nayeon hates Jeongyeon, then Chaeyoung is damned. _You can not hate someone you first did not love. You hate them because you loved them, and you lost them_ _._

“Given their past”, the black-haired one shrugs her shoulders. “I wouldn’t say exactly that.” 

Chaeyoung frowns. “What do you mean ‘given their past’?”

The atmosphere inside the car drops to a low (despite the literal weather of that afternoon) and Chaeyoung can sense the reluctance from both the two girls beside her at the back. The passenger seat shifts and lets out a small cry. 

Mina turns on her seat. “They’re serviceable enemies.” 

Chaeyoung must be _far_ into the vast, dark depths of the 21st century vernacular because she doesn’t know what the hell Mina’s profile description means. 

“Are they...former comrades or something…?”

“You’re too young to understand…” The blonde girl trails off and Chaeyoung is soon hit with the hard answer on her face. That sweet, soft tone and the sense of protection over any moving and breathing object only comes from one person and between aunt Sana and aunt Momo, aunt Sana always censored the cool-kid shows and apologized to Chaeyoung with the same tone and the _exact_ same words...

 _Oh my god._ Chaeyoung feels her jaw drop at the realization. She turns to the blonde girl in the cheerleading uniform seated beside her, pointed profile showing off perfect features. _She’s aunt Sana?_

"Just tell her", Chaeyoung supposes the cool black-haired girl is aunt Momo, sitting on the other end of the seats, arms crossed over her chest. "She isn't a kid, Satang."

"And besides, unnie", Dahyun finally speaks up from the driver's seat, looking at the backseat through the rearview mirror. "She's going to be stuck with the two from now on. Chaeng's the one going to suffer the most."

"They're each other's booty calls." Mina deadpans, looking straight ahead at the ongoing argument that looks like it's just about to end in total destruction with no heart left unscathed.

What transpires next happens like this: the entire car stills at Mina's nonchalant and unabashed response, the tension thickening in the air. Three pairs of onyx eyes cast their regretful glances towards the new kid. 

The shock doesn't stem from the fact that Chaeyoung had just found out about her mother's orientation explicitly (she already had a feeling before), rather it comes from the fact that Mina was the one who blurted it out and how Mina is very much transparent in this lifetime given how Chaeyoung's little memories of the woman had always denoted a soft and kind disposition.

In a sense, Chaeyoung did deserve to know this. Just, not in this way.

"Wait. Nayeon unnie has a boyfriend..."

"She does." Dahyun lets out a sigh from the front seat. "Look at where she is now though."

"But…" 

Chaeyoung can't even bring herself to understand the situation. It's not that it's hard to comprehend, it's just _unbelievable._

Nayeon, from what Chaeyoung knows (and she knows _a lot_ given how it's her mother they're talking about), has always been a one-track-mind kind of person. She was, for most of the time, practical and never the YOLO type. _The only mishap in Nayeon's life was Chaeyoung..._

So if her mother is in a relationship with someone but can't seem to let go or forget a "booty call" then that must mean Yoo Jeongyeon is more than just a one-time thing. 

_Oh my god._

Out of all the people in the world (including those of whom Chaeyoung have had the unfortunate experience of encountering given how they throw themselves at her mother so shamelessly), it's this Yoo Jeongyeon who seemed to have won in the end–or, under the circumstances, won in the first place.

It's the girl Chaeyoung just met a few days ago, the cool soccer captain who, had she existed in Chaeyoung's present life, would have given aunt Jihyo a run for her money for best aunt. 

Or, come to think of it, if whatever happened between Jeongyeon and her mother didn't destroy them the way it did, enough for Chaeyoung to grow up without knowing any Jeongyeon in her life... _then Yoo Jeongyeon might have even been my—_

_Oh my god._

"Hey, Chaeyoung!" Dahyun exclaims, snapping her fingers in front of Chaeyoung's face. She's already positioned on her knees like a child, facing the backseat. "Have you been listening to me?" 

"Sorry...I...I was just thinking of something." Chaeyoung stammers.

Dahyun lets out a dramatic sigh. "I said, you asked about Nayeon and Jeongyeon unnie hating each other, right?"

"No? I asked if that was a possibility and you said–"

"Look at them." Dahyun purses her lips towards the direction of the argument. 

It sounded like they were commentators in a WWE fight. From the position where they were observing from, Jeongyeon's back faced the car. The only view is Nayeon's distraught face and the tears that she can't hold back streaming down. 

"That fight? That's not something new. It comes with the package whenever they see each other. And us?" Dahyun gestures to herself, Sana, and Momo. "We barely knew each other until they happened and suddenly, we were all working shifts in the Damage Control club. We know this. We know them. You asked if they hate each other?" 

Chaeyoung reluctantly nods.

"We used to hope that would be the case since it only made sense to fight when you hate each other. But after all of that, they return to normal." 

"And normal is?" _Normal in their own convoluted way?_

"They forget anything happened and return to ignoring each other and avoiding anything that has to do with one another." 

The knowledge that this confrontation isn't even the worst only means one thing for Chaeyoung: whatever fight they had that resulted into their destruction still hasn't happened yet. 

And if Chaeyoung's conjecture is true and Nayeon's happiness in the present has something to do with Jeongyeon's absence, then the main purpose of her trip to the past is to stop her mother and Jeongyeon from further destroying what remains of their relationship in the near future. 

_Holy shit. Am I going to have to play cupid for—_

"You can't do that." 

Chaeyoung's thoughts are cut off. Mina's voice is barely coherent but enough to snap Chaeyoung out of her reverie.

"Y-You heard me?" _Was I speaking my thoughts out again?_

"You can't play cupid for them, Chaeyoung." The sternness in the usually timid girl silences the entire car down. "Not when Nayeon has a boyfriend and everytime Jeongyeon Jeongyeon and Nayeon are together, all they do is hurt each other more." 

(Chaeyoung's only memory of her aunt Mina was during a birthday party. She had a beautiful, soft voice that stood out amidst aunt Momo and aunt Sana's chaotic singing and aunt Jihyo's naturally loud one. Aunt Mina's eyes glimmered along the candles of the birthday cake, like they held galaxies behind them.

The same eyes look at her now from the rearview mirror but no longer do they carry the universe of stars with them. 

It's just hollow and dark, and it's painful to look into.)

"I get that you're a new kid and you hold nothing but good intentions for them especially since you were able to experience a side to Nayeon that seemed capable of kindness and love, but you have no idea how deep their pent-up emotions have scarred them, and you have no business getting yourself involved with it." 

This Mina is calm but sharp enough to pierce a dagger through Chaeyoung's walls. 

"What's their mess is theirs to fix. Don't play cupid when you barely know anything." 

"Minari, that's too much…" Sana butts in, frowning at the girl adjacent to her. "Chaeyoung was just–…"

"Was just what?" Mina abruptly turns on her seat, making Chaeyoung stagger back into her seat a little and grab a hold of her own hand. "Was just trying to help? To fix their mess? Reality check, unnie. The last time that happened, look at where it got us now." 

"Mina…" It's Momo who tries to dampen the situation now, but to no avail.

"Everytime someone tries to fix their mess, it always ends up with all of us getting hurt more." Mina's words hold a certain weight on them. Ashamed when her voice cracks, she sits back down and looks away. "Spare yourself, Chaeyoung. No one deserves to suffer like that." 

The car stills for the nth time that afternoon. A patch of pain seers from the back of Chaeyoung's hand, spreading like thirstful conquerors. She looks down on it and sees the red marks of her nails that scraped through pale skin. 

It's this bad habit again whenever she's anxious.

Dahyun sees it too. "Chaeyoung, your…" she trails off, worrying glance staring right at Chaeyoung's hand.

Before Chaeyoung could even hide it away, Sana's already taking her hand and holding it firmly in place, between her own soft ones. "You also do this, Chaeyoung?" 

"W-What?" It's weirdly comforting, the way aunt Sana draws soft circles on Chaeyoung's hand with the pad of her thumb.

"Nayeon also does this. Scratches any surface when she's anxious. She always does it whenever she comes back from Woo Dohwan's–…"

"Wait." Chaeyoung interjects. "Who's Woo Dohwan?"

"Her boyfriend." 

_What? That's not right. My surname is Son. Who the hell is Woo Dohwan?_

The frown on Chaeyoung's face is mistaken for distaste.

Dahyun expresses the same sentiments. "I know. Ugly name, right?" She scoffs with a roll of her eyes, says something else–probably another butt-hurt comment on the guy–but Chaeyoung's completely zoned out.

"Is Woo Dohwan his only name…?"

Sana nods reluctantly. "I think so?"

Dahyun makes another deriding comment about this guy making the world's worst spy (because apparently only spies were allowed cool, second names) but Chaeyoung only listens half-heartedly.

If Nayeon is seeing someone else besides her biological father, then that must mean Nayeon hasn't met or encountered him yet. And if what Dahyun said was real, that this fight isn't even the climax, then whatever destroyed Nayeon and Jeongyeon had something to do with Chaeyoung's dad and ultimately, her as well.

Chaeyoung's existence cost her mother her happiness with someone else.

***

(Two days and a half into 1998 and Chaeyoung has already encountered the entirety of her mother's old friends. 

Some stayed long enough to witness Chaeyoung grow up, and some had their reasons to leave before and others, halfway through. 

Whatever the reason is, Chaeyoung knows each happening in this past holds its own effect to the present. And the present is what Chaeyoung is trying to change. 

Whatever–or _whoever–_ her mother's happiness is, it was left here. And only two people didn't stay long enough for Chaeyoung to meet them. 

Whatever happens, Chaeyoung has to make sure Jeongyeon and Nayeon don't ultimately destroy each other and fall apart, and make sure to get to the bottom of Dahyun's absence in the present.) 

***

The fight eventually ends and everyone moves around the situation like clockwork, well calculatedly and carefully.

There are no words exchanged when Jeongyeon returns to the Wrangler and climbs up the driver's seat. Sana gives her space up for Dahyun and moves to her own cat where Jihyo and Nayeon wordlessly walk to.

Every single person has something to do and Chaeyoung only sits at the back and observes quietly. It's like watching doctors preparing for surgery to save a life, or soldiers lining up in a straight row, preparing for battle.

When Dahyun takes up Chaeyoung's space by the window, just behind the driver's seat, Chaeyoung is squished to the middle with aunt Momo at her other side.

A nudge prods at her arm. Dahyun leans in closer for a whisper.

"See? Damage control." She lets out a small sigh. "Welcome to our club."

Chaeyoung only feels the uncomfortable churning in her stomach. The situation is unbearably sad and lonely.

"I really want to help them, Dahyun." Chaeyoung whispers back. She throws wary glances at Jeongyeon's profile. The older girl is busily navigating through the streets, following Sana's car in front. 

Jihyo thinks it's for the best that they all stay at someone's house for the meantime, the nearest house to them but the farthest from school vicinity. Just until class hours end.

Dahyun purses her lips and ponders on a course of action. 

She doesn't get to think of any. 

"I honestly don't know how you can help because we barely reached a point where one of us had to step in. Whenever that happened, it was always just Jihyo unnie they allowed to get in between them…" the disappointment in her voice is apparent, like getting the shorter end of the stick. "Maybe you can talk to Nayeon? She's the one who's been crying the most earlier." 

Chaeyoung nods silently, brain trying to get into the works in finding out a way how to approach her mother. 

"Just", Dahyun adds, hissing under her breath. "Don't let Mina unnie find out, I guess? Be careful." 

They make it sound like approaching Nayeon's side is like sneaking into enemy territory and planning an internal acquisition. 

Chaeyoung knows Nayeon gets insufferable sometimes, but if there's one person in the world who knows her the most, it's her daughter.

***

_Nayeon and Chaeyoung make the weirdest mother-and-daughter dynamic._

_For most of the time they get along simply because Nayeon doesn't show up and Chaeyoung knows how to live with that. It doesn't necessarily mean they act that way towards each other all the time._

_There are days, the absolutely rare ones, where the weather is just perfect. Not too sunny but not raining cats and dogs as well. It's just enough for a stroll along Hannam park without having to worry about the scorching afternoon sun or a picnic without having to worry about getting soaked underneath the rain._

_On those days, when everything seems just about enough, Nayeon and Chaeyoung work it out._

_One of those rare moments came along a few days after Chaeyoung's return from summer camp._

_It was a lovely Saturday and Nayeon decided to work from home, the first sign of that day's unparalleled simplicity and perfection. Chaeyoung didn't have any plans to go out with her tiny circle of friends. Tzuyu hadn't replied ever since a few nights ago and Yerim was away with her parents. There were no friends to hang out with._

_The second sign of the day's atypicality came when Nayeon actually cooked and didn't have deliveries. She prepared a simple meal for Chaeyoung and although they ate in silence during lunch, it was fulfilling in a way Chaeyoung couldn't bring herself to describe._

_The third sign was the most shocking and unusual. After washing and drying away the plates and utensils, Chaeyoung was called to her mother's bedroom._

_Nayeon's bedroom was, for the most of it, a sacred temple of her mother. The last time Chaeyoung had been inside, she was a kid wandering around and looking for a lost toy. Her mother came up with some story about a monster under her bed to scare Chaeyoung away. It wasn't the best method and aunt Jihyo made sure Nayeon was scolded when she found out about it._

_When Chaeyoung grew up, no longer did a monster tale seem necessary to keep her out of her mother's room. She simply avoided the room because it was her mother's personal space and weirdly enough, her mother guarded it as if it held some secret inside._

_Now that she was specifically being called to the room, Chaeyoung felt a weird surge of knots inside of her. Like going up the highest peak of the rollercoaster ride._

_When she finally stepped inside the room, it was like the rollercoaster cart stopping on the highest peak of the tracks and its engines dying down. It was very anticlimactic._

_Her mother's room was a pigsty. A comfortable, queen-sized bed lay on the center of the room, on top of it were stacks of pillows, an unfolded duvet, and her laptop. On the study desk near the window, beside the bed, was a plate with a half-eaten sandwich, a glass of water almost empty, and an instant ramen amidst a spread of papers._

_Chaeyoung's room was cleaner._

_"Mom, what happened…"_

_Nayeon reappeared from her small walk-in closet. "Oh, sorry. I was working on something."_

_Chaeyoung remained standing by the door, not closing it. "You were calling me?"_

_"Yes", Her mother wiped her hands on a towel before walking towards her desk and shuffling through the papers. Chaeyoung could see her mother clad in an oversized hoodie and pajamas, her tied into a messy half-ponytail. "I have to submit an artistic poster for work and I suck at that so I thought, why not ask for your help?"_

_Sometimes when they spoke to each other in public, other people would look at them weirdly. Nayeon didn't talk like a normal soft-spoken mother. She was unabashed and informal. It was fortunate how Chaeyoung still spoke in formal language outside. Inside their house though, it was a different thing._

_"Why ask me? You can just hire someone."_

_Nayeon finally found what she was looking for. "They ask for too much and I only trust you. I know you're an artist, honey. I've seen your works and they're beautiful."_

_Chaeyoung felt a smile tugging at her lips and something warming on her cheeks. This was unusual._

_"Oh...uh...okay, I guess?"_

_"Great!" Nayeon chirped. "Come here. Work with me."_

_And Chaeyoung did. She stayed inside her mother's room. She worked by the desk while Nayeon was on her bed, typing something on her laptop while munching on her sandwich. It was lousy and totally weird seeing her mother so "loose", but it was funny at the same time. It felt like seeing a new side to her mother._

_Conversations weren't an exemption with her mother. Nayeon had a thing for trying to be a "cool mom" but failing otherwise._

_"So, camp. Did you meet someone?" She also had a thing for shamelessness and straightforward conversation starters._

_The images of Tzuyu and all the times they spent in the art room suddenly popped up._

_Chaeyoung felt the warmth of embarrassment creep onto her cheeks. "Mom! Is that what you think I did in the camp?!"_

_"I mean, other than the art, of course." Nayeon shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "So, did you?"_

_"Mom!"_

_"Come on, isn't that what everyone does nowadays? Did you...what'd you call that...um...tinder someone?"_

_Chaeyoung was horrified. "MOM!"_

_All Nayeon did was laugh. "Fine, fine. But did you–"_

_"Friends! I only made friends!" Chaeyoung exclaimed. Technically speaking, Tzuyu was a friend._

_Nayeon looked convinced enough. "Okay, good…" she continued typing on her laptop, eyes not straying away from the screen. "But you know, I'm totally fine with you–…"_

_"MOM!"_

_There were days they seemed like strangers, and days where they were each other's best friend. This was one of those rare ones._

_Eventually, Chaeyoung finished the artwork by dinner time and Nayeon, naturally, had something delivered. She made Chaeyoung choose for their dinner._

_The doorbell rang while Nayeon was taking her shower._

_"Can you get that, Chaeng?" She shouted from the bathroom._

_Chaeyoung scrambled for her slippers underneath the bed (she had unknowingly ended up slipping under the covers of her mother's bed–it smelled like flowers and woody musk even though it was a wrinkled mess–after straining her back too much from working on the desk chair). "Where's your wallet?"_

_"Somewhere in my drawer!"_

_Chaeyoung scanned the room–compared to earlier, it looked messier and more chaotic–and found said drawer near the door. She pulled the first shelf out and found her mother's wallet underneath a stack or scarves and towels._

_"Got it!"_

_Nayeon only replied with an incoherent yelp before Chaeyoung ran out of the room and to the door to get the delivery._

_Chaeyoung opened the door. "Hey, how much will it be—"_

_The man standing before her wasn't a delivery guy. First of all, they ordered pizza. The man before Chaeyoung held nothing but a bouquet of flowers while clad in a semi-formal attire._

_"You're not the delivery guy."_

_Behind the tall, well-built man was a red sports car parked in front of their gate._

_"What? No!" The man didn't even attempt to hide the distaste in his tone and face at the sight of Chaeyoung. Clearly, he was looking for someone else._

_"Are you in the right address, mister?"_

_"Mister?" The guy exclaimed, aghast, lowering his giant bouquet down. "Yes, I am. This is…" he pulled out his phone from the pocket of his jeans and red out loud the address. "Im Nayeon lives here, am I right?"_

_Chaeyoung had been taught well how to dodge weird strangers and for this case, a rude and weird one. "Um…"_

_"This is it!" The man, however, was adamant and annoying. "Are you her maid or something? I'm Seungheon from work. Can you call her down?"_

_For someone who worked in a big and credible company with her mother, this man sure was stupid and incredibly impolite. Chaeyoung knew exactly how to deal with people like him._

_"Oh, Miss Im?" She decided to play along. For the sake of the night's fun. "She's still in the shower. What is your reason for visiting?"_

_The man frowned. "We have reservations at Jungsik for 8pm."_

_The context was slowly coming to Chaeyoung yet she deliberately refused to acknowledge it. She may not be a kid anymore and she might not need her mother's attention all the time but Chaeyoung, in all the glory of her unadulterated 18-year-old self, will never, for the life of her, feel comfortable at the fact that her mother is still legible to...date._

_"A dinner between co-workers? Strictly colleague to colleague?" Fuck it if she sounded like a protective mom over her own mother. The man was rude and condescending. He didn't deserve anyone like her mom._

_"No?" He replied, exasperated. It was obvious how he was getting annoyed and close to lashing out. "A date between man and woman. Strictly romantic."_

_Chaeyoung felt like vomiting. A man was actually attempting to take her mother out on a date! As if the world couldn't get any worse!_

_"She can't. Sorry. She's busy." Chaeyoung tried closing the door on the man's face, only to be stopped halfway by a shoe stepping in between the door and the frame._

_"Ya!" He shouted. "Who the fuck are you to–…"_

_Chaeyoung tried pushing the door close with all her might, but the man was too strong._

_"Chae?"_

_Her movements were halted. Nayeon stood by the living room, clad in her silk pajamas with her hair wrapped around in a towel on top of her head. She definitely didn't look like she was going out on a date._

_"What's taking so long? Who's at the door?"_

_"No one!" But it didn't look like no one. Chaeyoung was fighting to close the door._

_"NAYEON!"_

_Chaeyoung gave in. It was useless trying to fight with someone so robust._

_At the call of her name, Nayeon walked over to grab the knob and pull the door open._

_No longer did the man sport any smile. He looked disoriented and rattled. The flowers had petals falling by the doorstep because of all the movement._

_"Who the fuck is this?!" He hissed, glaring over Nayeon's shoulders where Chaeyoung stood, behind her mother. "Your maid is rude and she shut the door on the my face! You should fire that girl!"_

_Chaeyoung expected the worst. Her day had been amazing enough and it was too greedy of her to expect more. For every happiness constitutes sadness and disappointment._

_"My maid?"_

_Chaeyoung kept her head low. At the face of a co-worker, her mother would definitely not put her career at risk just because of Chaeyoung's refusal to allow her a date with a guy._

_"Yes! Because of that, we're going to be late for our reservations at Jungsik!" He continued yapping._

_Nayeon frowned and reached for her wallet from Chaeyoung's hold. "Oh, was that tonight?"_

_For a second there, it actually sounded like her mother was feigning guilt and surprise._

_"Yes, tonight! Did you honestly forget!?"_

_"I'm sorry, Seungheon oppa. It totally skipped my mind. Maybe we can reschedule it some other time?"_

_"What–no! Those reservations are expensive and–…"_

_"I already took a shower and, as you can see, I'm already in my pajamas", Nayeon shrugged her shoulders. "We ordered pizza for dinner. I'm not really craving for Korean food."_

_The expression on the man's face morphed into something utterly disgusted. "You eat dinner with your maid?"_

_"What? I don't have a maid, oppa."_

_"Then who's that?" He pursed his lips at Chaeyoung's direction._

_A scoff resonated in the air._

_"_ That _is my daughter, Seungheon."_

_The sternness in her mother's voice sent chills down Chaeyoung's spine._

_The man visibly paled. "Y-You...you have a...daughter?"_

_Chaeyoung felt the taste of victory in her lips as she stifled back a cackle at the wicked turn of events._

_Nayeon seemed outright insulted. "Yes, I have. Is something wrong with that?"_

_"I...I just didn't...I thought you were young…"_

_"I am. I'm only 38."_

_"But...you have a daughter…"_

_At this point, Nayeon was just wasting her time. "Look, my life isn't a story for me to tell you. I've made it clear before how I'm not entertaining anyone, oppa." She grabbed the door knob and prepared to close the door._

_The man had the audacity to scoff. "Clearly, Nayeon. You have a child."_

_Chaeyoung wanted to launch herself at the man._

_Nayeon, however, thrived in these arguments. "And you have no manners." She smiled a shit-ass grin. "Clearly, Seungheon, I don't have time for someone who belittles domestic workers, single moms and shouts at kids."_

_She puckered her lips at the direction of the street. "Take your flowers with you. The gate's over there. Show yourself out."_

_"What–no! These are expensive flowers, Im! And that reservation is expensive too! You can't just throw that away!"_

_Chaeyoung watched as her mother shuffled through her wallet and pulled some bills out. She placed the money inside of the bouquet._

_"There. Paid. Now go." Nayeon was about to walk inside but the man stopped her midway, reaching out for her hand with his other free one._

_"But these are your favorites! Roses! These were supposed to win you over!" The man just looked like a defeated child by now. It was truly a sad sight._

_"I like waxflowers and hyacinths. And that won't win me over. I don't accept flowers." She pulled out something from her wallet. Chaeyoung could barely see what it was but it was a folded purple paper. "I only accept these."_

_Nayeon held it up just enough for Chaeyoung to see. It was the paper flower she made from summer camp._

I thought she threw it away...

_"Now leave. Before I call the cops on you."_

_With that, Nayeon walked inside and left Chaeyoung to stay for a little longer, just enough to be able to give the man a good, old-fashioned middle finger before slamming the door close._

_The moment the door was shut, Nayeon erupted into a fit of laughter. A high-five waited for Chaeyoung._

_"Gosh", Nayeon exhaled, clenching her stomach from the laughter. "We make the weirdest mother-and-daughter dynamic."_

_Chaeyoung wouldn't have wanted it any other way._

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was enjoying to write haha 
> 
> #Twicein1998


	8. this is where it starts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Jeong.” Nayeon calls out again. She watches with thinning patience as Jeongyeon masters the art of pillow-fluffing and blanket-pressing. “Can we talk? Please?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jihyo is left-handed but she draws and writes with her right hand. Also, that thing with the Benz 500E? that's like, the staple car for every rich, dramatic family in a 90s soap opera.

Somewhere in the back of Chaeyoung’s mind, amidst all the other matters of interest to worry about–particularly her _pending_ existence in the present life should she do something _really, really_ stupid in this timeline–and all the other clutter of possibilities to consider–such as the likelihood of altering other people’s lives because of the miraculous wish that had her tampering with whatever law’s responsible for time travelling–the biggest of her worries is the possibility of misunderstanding the situation and, in return, making the present worse.

Chaeyoung has selfishly jumped into an operation likely to have disastrously damaging effects without even taking the time to sit down and lay out a stratagem that could possibly lessen the fallout. 

In the vehicle’s unbearable silence, Chaeyoung is left with no other option but to confront her all-consuming thoughts and questions, musing in her own accord.

She’s defied the laws of the universe with this unfathomable travel and has ended up twenty years back when all she wished for was for her mother’s happiness. It never occured to Chaeyoung what exactly it is that she wants to happen in the present and what she should do in this lifetime to achieve it. 

Is travelling to 1998 an opened door for her to change or prevent things from happening like an omniscient character, or is it just an opportunity for her to watch and find out what it is that happened in the past that had ultimately caused the fallout in the present, like a spectator just waiting for destruction? 

Chaeyoung thinks the next right thing to do is to refer to or seek wisdom from someone wiser beyond their age, someone who is empathetic enough to understand the “hypothetical” convoluted situation and give guidance for prudent future action. 

“Psst, Dahyun”, Chaeyoung whispers under her breath and doesn’t dare strain her neck from turning to face the golden-haired girl, afraid to disrupt the tense silent battle going on inside the vehicle and potentially attract unwanted attention. 

Dahyun must have some sixth sense or something because she easily plays along stealthily, only inching closer to Chaeyoung’s side while keeping her head still in one direction. “What is it? Why are we whispering?”

Chaeyoung tries _so, so hard_ not to laugh. “Hypothetically speaking, if you were given a chance to travel back in time to your mother’s teenager days to find out whatever happened that resulted into the present time that’s...sad...and miserable, would you just sit back and stick to finding out and using the knowledge acquired to change the present when you return, or would you prevent certain events in the past to alter the present?” 

“Hmm...” The golden-haired girl hums with a perceptive nod, all the while maintaining a firmly straight look to avoid suspicion. 

Chaeyoung is certain for a few seconds, Dahyun’s immersing herself in the situation given and is wholeheartedly devising a rigorously-thought-of advice in the entire minute she utilizes in silence and nodding, but really, Chaeyoung should have known the forbidding look and the serious tone set down is just a façade. “How hypothetical is the situation we’re talking about?” 

Chaeyoung tries _so, so_ hard not to face-palm herself. "Just, _really_ hypothetical, I guess?"

"Uhuh...okay…" Dahyun takes a deep breath as if to relax her wrung brain from the deep comprehension used, and honestly it's the most climactic wait in history for Chaeyoung, until she finally replies anticlimactically. "I would probably do both." 

Dahyun swings an arm around her shoulders and pats her back reassuringly, turning to look wistfully ahead like she's in a Hall of Fame for awkward high school pictures. "I would probably choose the events to change while not altering _too much,_ you know?"

Chaeyoung tries to follow the trajectory of the wistful look, but it's just the canvas top of the car. "What are you—"

"Like what Gandhi once said", Dahyun remains firmly in character, giving an Oscar-worthy performance. "There are moments in life where you have to take action, and moments where the only thing to do is to sit back and chill, you know?"

It doesn't help that much when all the response elicits are even more questions in Chaeyoung's mind–particularly, _did Gandhi really say that?_ If so, _what did he mean by it?_ –and all Dahyun corrects is the person she referenced, mistaking anti-colonial nationalist and political ethicist Mahatma Gandhi for the modern icon of resistance and activism against inequality, Tupac Shakur. 

“Oops. My bad.” 

Nevertheless, Dahyun's insights have at least provided a small beacon of light in the hollow darkness of Chaeyoung's introspecting mind, allowing her a breath of fresh air for prudent thinking of her next move in this so-called mission she's jumping into.

The stillness of the car returns to a tense normality and a new set of questions fly around freely in Chaeyoung's mind.

While it was for her sake that her mother missed so many opportunities and chances to better herself and achieve her ultimate dream of becoming a successful lawyer, was it also because of Chaeyoung that Nayeon gave up so many friends and even, Chaeyoung assumes, her first love? 

Looking at the people before her–aunt Mina who had the sky as the limit whenever she gave presents, aunt Momo who used to be Chaeyoung’s partner-in-crime whenever she got in trouble, and aunt Sana who always secretly indulged Chaeyoung in everything she wanted–and those whom she never knew existed in her mother’s life until now–Jeongyeon who would have made a _cool_ aunt (or parent, whichever suits the situation) and Dahyun who would have been aunt Momo’s contender for self-proclaimed best aunt–it only shows Chaeyoung how her mother’s left so many things and so many people behind and never looked back. 

Should that be the ultimate motive behind the inexplicable time travelling episode, and the definite impetus behind the present-Nayeon’s lackluster life, then is Chaeyoung supposed to prevent anything unfortunate from happening to everyone in this time–particularly the seven girls she’s encountered under the least welcoming circumstances–so that there is not a single reason for them to leave in the present or be left behind?

The answer to that question sits comfortably at the tip of Chaeyoung's tongue, occupying the forefront of her mind like a billboard in lifesize font. Fortunately–and unfortunately–they arrive at the gate of aunt Sana's residence and it's the first time Chaeyoung has been to the place, and instead of the wonders of her next move occupying her mind, it's pushed to a close second now with the jaw-slacking shock that comes when Chaeyoung tries to take a whole look at the building from her seat in the middle but the curtain windows can't even fit the entire view because it's _that_ massive.

Aunt Sana doesn't live in a house. She lives in a _damn mansion._

When Jeongyeon hesitantly circles a driveway and parks the Wrangler in what looks like a 10-carport, together with a series of other classic sports cars, and both Dahyun and aunt Momo gaze in awe with their mouths hanging wide open from their seats by the windows, Chaeyoung swiftly reckons this is also their first time seeing a house that could fit the entire school population.

A car away from where they are parked, Sana gets out of her Porsche alongside a sullen-looking Nayeon and Jihyo. 

Dahyun literally jumps out of the Wrangler to crane her neck at what looks like a cultural attraction before her. Chaeyoung briefly gets out of the car and follows behind, just in time to hear Dahyun comment in awestruck, "So this is why Sana unnie's parties were always _sooo_ wild..." 

Chaeyoung could understand even though she barely knew about any Sana Minatozaki party. If she lived in a mansion as big as the Seoul Metropolitan Library, she would also host a lot of events.

By the next series of events, Chaeyoung is given time to watch from the back how Damage Control happens in the group. It's essentially just all of them–minus Nayeon and Jeongyeon–walking on eggshells and pretending nothing happened.

Aunt Sana takes everyone inside through the fourth door somewhere at the side of the house–Chaeyoung isn't sure if what she's heard is correct but she wouldn't be surprised anymore if the mansion had more than five doors–and briefly tours everyone around from the second kitchen where they entered through.

(Apparently, Aunt Sana's grandfather was the ambassador to Korea and this was the house where the former embassy was located before the move to the more contemporary building in downtown Seoul. It made sense; by the two Roman columns in the front of the house was a square discoloration on one of the white pillars, probably where the old embassy plaque was mounted.)

Admiring the interior of the _mansion_ is easier than the outside for there was quite a multitude to commend, particularly the miniscule Japanese details in the whole neoclassical architecture, as outlandish as it sounds. 

The kitchen (to be specific, the _second_ one) is affluently white with a touch of hunter green in the cabinets and vanities. There’s a beautiful mini-chandelier on the ceiling above the granite kitchen island, and a noticeable french door fridge that aunt Momo easily treads to. 

Unfortunately for her, they only pass through the second kitchen to go to the living space where everyone would be staying, on the 90s quintessential household furniture: the floral chintz sofa. 

Chaeyoung would have gladly joined everyone huddled in the sofa that could win the world’s most nostalgia-inducing furniture competition, and, for the first time, admire the 90s interior in person and not just on the throwback edition of Architectural Digest–really, she would have–if only her headcount wasn’t missing one person and, at the second attempt to count, that one missing is apparently her mother isolating herself from the group and wandering away.

“Unnie?” Chaeyoung tugs at her aunt Sana’s yellow plaid blazer. 

Calling aunt Sana _unnie_ doesn’t sit well on Chaeyoung’s tongue but she figures, if she has to make sure everyone in this lifetime stays in both her and her mother’s lives, familiarizing the notion of calling her aunts “unnie” should be of top practice. 

The notice that Nayeon is not with them anymore is supposed to be undisclosed to everyone, but when Sana literally turns on her heels and stops whatever she is trying to say–something about an entertainment room where they can play Doom in Atari (Chaeyoung supposes it’s an apocalyptic game set in a place called Atari)–the entire group’s finds out immediately Nayeon’s ditched them off to wander around on her own. 

Sana pacifies the situation—“It’s okay. She’s been here. She won’t get lost.”—while Dahyun has nothing but pure astonishment for the mansion’s massiveness—“She can get _lost_ here?!”—and Jeongyeon couldn’t any more be less bothered and insouciant at the ordeal—“If she doesn’t want to be with us, let her go.” 

_If she doesn’t want to be with us, let her go._

Chaeyoung, for a brief second in time, wonders if that’s the exact same thought that had occured in Jeongyeon’s mind when Nayeon left everyone–assuming that it _was_ her mother who left–but her cerebration is pushed to the side when the soft mumbling of a voice is heard from the opposite side of the _mansion_ that Sana explains lead to the conservatory. 

(Again, Dahyun reacts, “You have your own music college here!?” Momo only gives her a reassuring pat on the back.) 

Chaeyoung asks if she can go to Nayeon. Sana sends her a wary look, as if asking her _are you sure?_ , and darts the same gaze at Jihyo’s direction. She only gets a distant shrug from the impassive girl.

It’s obvious how aunt Jihyo’s detachment affects the group. Aunt Momo and aunt Sana try their best to lift everyone up with their energy but they could only do so much. Dahyun’s amplified reactions to the mansion crack a few smiles here and there, but the corners of Jihyo’s lips curve in a way that makes it look like rocks hold it down. Jeongyeon doesn’t even attempt a tight-lipped smile. 

After a small nod from aunt Sana and a few instructions on how to navigate through the labyrinthine hall she’ll have to pass through, Chaeyoung skids away–in full hopes of not getting lost in the neoclassical mansion. 

***

The moment Chaeyoung is out of sight, the entire group’s act breaks down. 

It became an unspoken concurrence between the seniors of the group (minus Jeongyeon and Nayeon): whatever it takes, they’ll take in the new kid and help her in her unfortunate situation of being stuck with the dysfunctional group’s source of chaos, Yoo Jeongyeon and Im Nayeon. 

Everyone makes sure of it. Even if they all have to triple their efforts in juggling school work, being student-athletes, and making sure their friends don’t murder each other (or worst, get expelled), they make sure of it. If they have to put up their best acts for the new kid not to feel too disheartened, they will. 

It’s not wholly because of compassion, no. Although Chaeyoung is a chirpy newbie whom they only got to know for less than a week and yet already had felt some sort of unfamiliar attachment to, as if they’ve known her ever since she was born, the mutual decision to work as an _actual_ group this time (no matter how uncanny their relationship with each other is) purely stands on the grounds that they can’t afford any more casualty.

“Is a compromise not enough this time?” The liveliness in Sana’s tone is wiped away like a switch flipped. She stands before Jeongyeon and Jihyo slumped on the chintz sofa, hands on her hips. “What happened out there?”

Everyone’s demeanors have changed, just like Sana’s. Momo hangs her head down and lets out a heavy exhale. Dahyun leans her head back on the edge of the wicker chair she’s sitting on, staring up at the giant crystal chandelier above them. No longer did her face sport the wide smile she had been tirelessly putting up since the ride to Sana’s. 

“Chae asked, you know.” She remarks in an uncharacteristically morose tone. All eyes peer over to Dahyun but she only continues to stare at the ceiling. “She wanted to help you two in fixing your issues out.” 

“What did you tell her?” Jihyo asks from beside Jeongyeon, a certain painful pulling in her chest at the thought of another person potentially getting involved with the mess they’ve all been trying so _hard_ to clean up.

“I tried to talk her out of it. Said something about how you’re already working on resolving the issues.” 

“But…?”

“But she’s a tough one.” Dahyun returns to gaze at everyone in the living room.

Jihyo only looks at her with a raised brow. “And…?”

“And I told her to talk to Nayeon.” 

The entire room quiets down. One would assume it's another moment for everyone to collectively let out their own expressions of remorse and frustration at the circumstance. In a sense, their own _mission_ had failed. Instead of their actions preventing Chaeyoung from getting involved, that's exactly what happens. 

Watching Sana pacify the situation with her dulling vivacity (even the sun dies when it gets too much), and both Momo and Dahyun try to chip in their sullen and reluctant suggestions for Jeongyeon (but they can only do so much), Jihyo feels the exhaustion settle in her bones, creeps its way into the space in her chest, and fills every nook and cranny of her body. 

She had survived a week with barely five hours of sleep when the student council hosted a week-long car wash event as a fundraiser (a classic idea courtesy of one Im Nayeon who _didn't_ even participate at all and only counted her face on the posters as her contribution); she had endured a week of eating personally-baked cookies that tasted like cardboard made by the middle school kids all for the sake of the their Cooking Club grades (she had stomach flu for a week and had to be confined but she still managed her paperwork and finished a handwritten essay with an IV-infused right hand); she got through _months_ of faking smiles and pretending like everything's okay when the entire school would literally collapse without her. Jihyo had made it through hell and back without a wrinkle on her uniform and a strand of hair out of place, yet _nothing_ had ever prepared her and exhausted her like the way Jeongyeon and Nayeon did.

Jihyo feels the exhaustion for all of them. It’s heavy and impenetrable and really, really sad. Because while everyone tries their best to overcome this, to help each other out even when they’re not obligated to, the person they’re trying to save from total destruction is the one who gives up first.

“We never asked for your help…”

It’s stupid and insensitive, and totally not for Jeongyeon to say. But she did, and she had a point. It hits everyone like a bullet piercing through their last armors, like a scissor cutting the last thin thread of their patience. Jihyo would not have let this one live through because _no one_ gets a pass at being unkind, but she’s exhausted and Jeongyeon’s exhausted, and when exhausted, you tend to say things you don’t really mean. So Jihyo puts this one at the back of her mind and gives Jeongyeon what she wants.

“Then let’s talk about the festival performance we have to do”, she sits up and cuts through the ongoing stream of complaints from Dahyun, Momo, and Sana. 

“Excuse me, _we_?” It’s the first time Mina joins the conversation without a scoff or an exasperated groan. 

“Yes. In French.” Of course, it’s a Dahyun thing to be able to crack a joke in the middle of an argument. It’s more a talent than a liability for Jihyo. Dahyun gets Momo to make a gagging sound and Sana to stifle back a smile.

Mina intentionally ignores them and tries to focus on the bigger matter. “Since when were _we_ a part of this?” 

“Since the prize was 120,000 Won.” 

If Momo wasn’t so gifted in all the areas of the physical fitness components, Dahyun’s first kiss would have been Sana’s living room carpet. 

“WAH— _Each!?_ ” Dahyun’s eyes look like they’re about to pop out of their sockets. 

Jihyo nods with a cunning smile, self-gratified enough to reel Momo in without even a second of doubt. If she’s in, Sana Minatozaki comes along the package (in a weird arrangement no one in the group has bothered noticing before now and yet still, no one comments)

“YES! Of course I’m in!” Dahyun bolts up from the chintz sofa to randomly high-five her senior. Jihyo unknowingly takes it. “I am _so_ poor I will literally dance for the principal if I had to.” 

Sana halts from her hushed giggles with Momo. “Will you really?” 

Dahyun gags. “Heck no!" 

Jihyo laughs at that while purposely overlooking Jeongyeon’s lack of involvement with the conversation. “So we have Satang, Momo, and Dubu in?” The three girls nod their heads simultaneously. “That makes us six.” Jihyo can already see their group’s victory. She turns to the only person remaining, expectant. “How about you, Mina?”

(When the Welcoming Committee–a.k.a. Kim Dahyun and a bunch of sophomores who wanted easy extra credit–was instructed to accompany the seniors’ only new student, cafeteria conversations had only been about how the new senior was apparently the daughter of a Yakuza boss who had some black market bone selling business going on. Other talk on the street had the new senior being named “Apgujeong’s Most Dangerous Student” and all the like. Dahyun had second thoughts of leading the welcoming for the new girl, afraid to risk all 206 of her calcium-sufficient bones, and had Jeongyeon help her out after ample begging and free mocha buns for a whole month.

What Dahyun and Jeongyeon were greeted with during the new senior’s arrival was a black Benz 500E rounding the circle driveway and the emergence of an angel. Mina Myoui was her name, introduced by very civil and affluent-looking parents, and she couldn't even speak for herself without coyly blushing and maintain eye contact for more than five seconds. Oh, the ice cold bucket of shock that bitch slapped the entire school…

Mina Myoui was an angel. She had a shy smile for everyone and everything. Although she could barely maintain eye contact without squirming or a full-length conversation without blushing madly, she was an amazing person and often had something insightful to say every time. 

It was evident how Mina captured everyone’s attention, particularly one person’s a little bit more. Jeongyeon’s words slipped during one lunch break, a week into Mina’s arrival and the start of the school year. She had likened Mina Myoui to a white rose in a flower bed or reds. 

It was romantic, genuine, heartfelt, and unexpected from someone who considered literature class as nap time. Jihyo was a spectator to the entire thing, and was a spectator too when Im Nayeon stepped in.

Everything happened too fast. It was a strenuous week filled school-year welcomings for the student council and Jihyo had been too busy, she wasn’t there when Nayeon decided it was the perfect time to start ruining the angel. 

_Yoo Jeongyeon likes girls. She’s sleeping with the new senior, Mina Myoui._

Everything happened too fast. It was suddenly too late for regrets. Mina no longer kept her shy smiles or stayed long enough for a conversation. She closed every door to her, built all the walls high and sturdy, and no one would get in.)

It wasn’t surprising when Mina decided to stay with Jeongyeon even through the hellhole Nayeon put her in. Jeongyeon provided a sort of safe haven for the people close to her, like a harbor on stormy seas. But staying wasn’t, in any case, Mina’s way of confronting the situation _maturely_ , no. Nayeon and Mina cannot be put in the same room without Jeongyeon. There weren’t catfights or insults thrown between them– _that_ was Mina’s way of being the mature one–but, if given a life-or-death situation and all Mina’s option to living was Im Nayeon; Well, she’d rather pass on. 

Jihyo _really_ doesn’t expect Mina to even consider the idea of being in a performing _group_ with Im Nayeon, not after everything, and she’s already feeling honored enough for Mina to actually take a few seconds to reply–when she really just expects a flat no–it’s as if the universe might surprisingly be on her side now and all the stars are aligning and there might be good on earth and—

“Okay. I’ll join.” 

Momo's moved to admiring the chia pets displayed on a shelf a good meter away from the sofa. She doesn't get to stop Dahyun from toppling over now.

The living room's cold and tense atmosphere does almost a 360. Momo rushes to help Dahyun recover from her unfortunate first kiss with the floor all the while expressing her excitement and happiness, and Sana begins blurting out her ideas how she can work with Mina in choreography and the possibility of incorporating Salt-n-Pepa and the Spice Girls to their moves. 

In this different kind of chaos, the one without hurtful words and tears exchanged but rather, of playful jibes and laughter, Jihyo sees it. The way Jeongyeon reacts to Mina's acceptance. They only share a certain look, a soft smile on Mina's side–something Jihyo hasn't seen lately–and a tight-lipped nod from Jeongyeon–the only positive reaction the girl's ever given ever since the parking lot. It's a brief moment and a little thing to be honest, but Jihyo figures it out. 

_This is what Nayeon had been afraid of._

***

The revulsion swirls unbridled inside of Nayeon’s stomach. 

When her memory pictures a familiar smile, the wide one that looked more like a cry for help than a grin at something, and longed for a familiar touch, the one she had long ached for, even just a brush or an unintentional pat, Nayeon finds herself further recoiling into an all-familiar, all-consuming pit of darkness. The one where there’s no window to let the light in, no room for air to move through, and no space for anything but the sadness inside of her. 

A familiar weight on her chest holds Nayeon down, as if blood had turned into an impenetrable substance that’s clogging her heart and depriving it of a steady beat and a placid flow. Even with the hanging plants, the vases of flowers, and the greenery around her, Nayeon can’t seem to find it in her to breathe. 

This happened before, had consumed her more than once. First was when Jeongyeon met Yerin and decided she was better company than Nayeon; second was when Mina had entered the group and infiltrated with her innocence and pure intentions, and Jeongyeon saw her more worthy of her time than Nayeon. 

It threatens to devour Nayeon whole this time. This familiar misery dresses up like a fleeting moment of bliss to be consumed and then, once permanently rooted in the core, disguised as butterflies in the stomach or the unrelenting tug at the corners of the lips, it begins tearing its way from the inside out, leaving nothing but scraps, just like a parasite would do.

_It's so easy to tell someone you're not okay, but then they get to asking why and how they can help, and you can't give them an answer because you don't know why and how yourself._

The fear and the anxiety start out as thin sheets of paper, something Nayeon can pierce holes in. 

( _"Nayeon, you are the most selfish person I have ever met!"_ )

In another minute it becomes a deluge of ice water surrounding every limb, creeping higher until it passes anywhere she can breathe through. 

( _"The only person you were saving there was yourself.")_

That's when everything becomes absolute, shutting Nayeon's body down as fast as punching a reset button. 

( _"You just had to ram into my life again and ruin everything. Including me.”)_

Her chest is heaving and her lungs feel like they're on fire. The flower beds below move closer in Nayeon's sight and she stumbles back and stretches her arms out for _anything_ to hold on to. 

_You ruin everything._

A vase shatters into broken shards at the collision on the floor. Nayeon crashes with it. Her head rolls like a carousel of her fears, vision bedimming slowly, _gradually, painfully._

_That’s why they leave you._

“No…” Nayeon’s voice comes out thin and barely there. Everything’s spinning out of control. “I...I don’t…” with every passing interval, she tries to breathe in but nothing’s happening. Everything just feels heavy and dark and unescapable. “Don’t...leave…H-Help…”

“Unnie!” _Mom!_

***

_(On Chaeyoung’s 9th birthday, something happened. Her mother had come home late enough to miss her birthday but that wasn’t it. Chaeyoung could barely understand. She was nine years old and the most important matter was the grudge against her mother for missing her birthday._

_She didn’t understand why her mother and her aunt were crying. Had failed to even make it a big point, really. All she could hear, apart from their muffled sobs and incessant wheezing, were incoherent words about a person’s name and something not making it.)_

***

When Chaeyoung sees Nayeon on the floor, surrounded by dangerously pointy shards of ceramic, the first thing she does is shout–and thinking about it now, five minutes later, it _definitely_ wasn’t the best thing to do–and the second thing that follows is her rushing over to help her mom, or _Nayeon unnie_ in this case.

It’s a panic attack, something that rarely happens in the present time but maybe that’s just because she doesn’t get to see her mom often enough to know if it _does_ happen. 

Nayeon, in an unfamiliar sensation of attachment and comfort, finds it in her to regain breathing when Chaeyoung sits next to her and holds her hand. 

It’s like teaching someone how to live, in the most literal sense of it. Chaeyoung never thought she’d be experiencing something like this, teaching the woman who _birthed_ her how to breathe. When their hands touch and she feels a sense of familiarity at the contact, it’s harder to keep her tears at bay when she realizes this is the first time she’s held her mother’s hand again ever since she probably was a kid. 

_And it just had to happen in the worst circumstance._

They sit in silence on the floor, leaning back against the wall beside the french doors. Nayeon looks straight ahead, brows meeting in a small dip and lips slightly apart, breathing in and out heavily. From her place beside her mom, Chaeyoung kicks away the shards of glass with her shoe. It’s a futile attempt but it’ll do for the meantime. Just so they don’t end up accidentally injuring themselves.

“You…” Nayeon takes a deep breath to stabilize herself. She refrains from casting the younger girl a glance. Something about being seen in her most vulnerable state still sends her uncomfortable. Still, it doesn’t mean she should associate her pride with inconsideration. “You _surely_ know when to come around, huh?”

Chaeyoung hides her apprehension through a stiff chuckle. "Instincts, I guess?"

It feels whimsical, to say the least, like an itch you don't want to scratch because it will ruin your new polished nails. Nayeon feels outraged at herself for being this fragile, like an open book for this strange kid to see; she wants to run away and hide forever, maybe change her name and forget everything in the process, but no, she doesn't recoil; she doesn't run away. Not when being left alone to herself is more dangerous than being kept in a room with a murderer ready for another victim. Nayeon remains firm here, on the floor, trying to light up the situation while remaining dignified–because god forbid she'll have this kid see another panic attack–and entertaining Chaeyoung with everything _but that_.

"Instincts?" Nayeon guffaws. "You sound like my mom and I haven't even seen her since I was a baby." 

It's supposed to be a joke, Chaeyoung understands, but she can't quite take her mother's attempts at salvaging her "Queen Bitch" image seriously, not after what she's just seen and most definitely not when they're sitting on the floor together, side by side, and her mom's hand is resting peacefully on her knee and she's drawing random scribbles on it with the pads of her fingers.

A Queen Bitch wouldn't even let the presence of someone like Chaeyoung linger anywhere near; such actions would damage their reputation beyond repair. But Nayeon's the one snuggling closer between them, even at the tiniest space whenever Chaeyoung moves away a little to stretch her legs out to kick away the shards around them. 

"Sorry you had to see that", Nayeon, _again,_ breaks the silence with a stiff chuckle. "Then again, I'm beginning to think you have a knack at sensing wherever there's trouble cause you're always around whenever I seem to be in one." 

If there's the slightest possibility–Chaeyoung isn't even considering the idea of it; she doesn' want to–she won't ever be able to return to her present life for meddling too much in the past, or find the old lady and make a wish to return again, then spending moments like this with her mom, when in the present she never had the chance to, is more than enough for Chaeyoung. _It's enough._

Nayeon begins rambling about things–about the hallway moment they shared, about the cheerleading team, about their shared hatred over the school system (it elicits a scoff from Chaeyoung. Nayeon in the present had _always_ been against Chaeyoung's remarks about the system)–and Chaeyoung feels bad for not being able to fully listen but it's kind of hard when thoughts about how _this_ is her chance to _fix_ things occupy most of her mind more than anything else.

"Unnie…" She utilizes this moment even if it feels like throwing her first dart at a big roulette game and not having any idea where it will land. "Can I tell you something?" 

And maybe it's the way the question is voiced out, the way it slices through Nayeon's current words so fervently and suddenly, on a normal basis she would never let someone _ever_ cut her off, but Chaeyoung is somewhere in between familiar and unknown, and it's weird how her presence doesn't bother Nayeon like how it should, like how it normally would, and Chaeyoung triumphs in whatever it is she's trying to achieve. Because Nayeon, for the first time, feels _really, really_ exhausted trying to sew words to cover up the rips she's made, and she silences down, _really_ doesn't say anything, and lets Chaeyoung speak.

"Jeongyeon unnie likes you."

And Nayeon ultimately regrets it soon after. Because the truth couldn't have sounded worse coming from somebody else, but it does, and it's painfully honest and true, and Nayeon just accepts it in defeat.

"I know." 

Chaeyoung continues to scribble hearts on Nayeon's hand. “Don’t you...have a boyfriend?” 

Nayeon rolls her eyes at that one minor detail. “We’re kind of going through a rough patch.”

“Will you two break up?” 

“It’s been long overdue, yes.” 

Chaeyoung feels her heart leap inside. She remains calm. "Jeongyeon unnie, do you...like her too?"

And again, really, there’s no room to refuse the existence of.her feelings. Setting the painful matter aside has done everything but good to Nayeon. 

“I do.” 

“Then why can’t you just be together?” 

Nayeon almost lets out a guffaw at the ridiculity of how easy Chaeyoung puts it out to be. “It’s not that simple, kid.”

“Um, it kind of is.” Chaeyoung remarks, matter-of-factly. The most elementary questions in life are the profoundest and ineffable. “If you love someone, then be with them. It’s that simple, unnie.” 

“It’s easy for you to say, kid. You’re not in my position. You’re not the one afraid and living every single second of your life making decisions for the sake of other people, only to end up the bad guy.”

Chaeyoung can hear fragments of the confrontation that happened in the parking lot, the painful words thrown at each other that even the car’s curtains and canvas top couldn’t filter out. 

“That’s because you hurt them, unnie.” _Mom, you’ve left so many things and so many people behind and never looked back._

Nayeon doesn’t look at Chaeyoung, doesn't even spare her a response. Maybe ignoring the wisdom coming from someone younger than her, someone she barely even knows, makes it go away. 

“Hurting them because you want to protect them will only make them leave”

It doesn’t go away. 

“You can’t save people, unnie. You only love them.” 

Although everyone who knows her automatically associates her with the visual expression of human creative skill and imagination, Chaeyoung likes to think that, should she not be able to find wisdom going down a career path related to the arts, her back-up plan would be to take up philosophy or psychology. Yerim wouldn’t want it. She’d probably tease Chaeyoung to the ends of the earth for having an “advice column” job and earning easily.

“Are you really younger than me?” Nayeon side-eyes the girl beside her, a lopsided smirk tugging at her lips. “You sound _way_ smarter than all the other losers in your year.”

“I just...know someone…who felt the same.” _You._

“Well…” Nayeon shrugs.“Whoever that person is, they must’ve gone through _shit_ to sound so sad.” 

Chaeyoung looks down and lets a small sigh. _She did._

“You and Jeongyeon unnie should talk again, you know? In a conversation that involves less crying and cursing.” 

It’s easier to consider the idea now, but to expect an actual output that favors Nayeon is like expecting not to end up wounded after falling off a cliff. It’s useless and impossible. 

“She has Mina now, Chaeyoung.” 

When fragments of memories with _aunt_ Mina swirl around in Chaeyoung’s mind, the only phrases she can associate the older woman with are _one-of-a-kind, probably the kindest woman on earth,_ and _breathtakingly really pretty._ When images of _this_ Mina, the one Chaeyoung is existing as of the moment with, the only phrase that is retained from the three is _breathtakingly really pretty_. 

Never in Son Chaeyoung’s entire life did she ever thought her aunt Mina would be getting involved in a love triangle with her mom. Honestly, _can this year get any cheesier?_

Never in that same life did Chaeyoung also ever expect someone like her mom, Im Nayeon, one of the most self-gratified and well-accomplished people she knows both in this lifetime and the present one, get so easily disheartened and quick to surrender all efforts at the face of love.

Chaeyoung is briefly tempted to smack the older girl before her. _Is this really my mom?_

“They’re not even dating?” She comments, surprised at how her mother actually sounds like she’s on the verge of giving up without even starting at all. “And what makes you so sure Mina unnie likes her?” 

“You’re not so smart after all…” Nayeon huffs as she rolls her eyes. She turns to face Chaeyoung. “Darling, Mina looks at Jeongyeon like she poops out rainbows and unicorns.” 

“There are no such things as unicorns...?” 

“That’s not the point”, Nayeon groans. “The point here is that Mina likes Jeongyeon. She doesn’t need to say it to prove it. She treats Jeongyeon _way_ better than I did. Like the way Jeongyeon deserves to be treated. _She’s_ what Jeongyeon deserves.”

When Chaeyoung glances at her mother, Nayeon looks like a defeated child with the way she’s pursing her lips into a pout and the way her brows meet in the middle of her forehead. It’s the same thing she does when she’s mad. They both look like spoiled brats unable to get what they want.

“I like Mina unnie.” Chaeyoung smiles, imagining her brief memories of her _aunt_ Mina. Nayeon turns to her with narrowed eyes, looking betrayed. Chaeyoung ignores this and continues, “She smells like Jasmines, smiles at the smallest things, and gets easily flustered. She’s like the perfect example of every high school first love.” 

“Wow, okay.” Nayeon says bitterly, yanking her hand away from its resting place on Chaeyoung’s knee. “Why are you even here? Why don’t you just go and—”

“But!” Chaeyoung blurts out, unable to hold back the laugh bubbling at her throat at the way Nayeon scowls at her. “Who did Jeongyeon unnie say she liked? Was it sweet, _sweet,_ pretty Mina unnie? Or you?”

“I’m going to ignore the disrespect there and proceed to ask you _this"_ , Nayeon fully shifts on her position to face Chaeyoung. “Who are you and why do you sound like you’ve known me for so long?”

It’s a joke, Chaeyoung knows, considering the smile on Nayeon’s lips, but Chaeyoung feels momentarily tempted to give the older girl an answer. The true one. But she still has a hold on herself and she knows doing so would ruin everything. 

“I just don’t want to see the same thing happen twice.” Chaeyoung sticks to the partial truth instead. “I think it’s easier to live having an idea of what you’ve done wrong and a chance to make up for it, than to live knowing you missed an opportunity and you won’t ever get to experience it again.”

“Wise words.” Nayeon smiles genuinely. “I never thought I’d be receiving wisdom from a kid.” 

Chaeyoung laughs at that. _I never thought I’d be giving my own mom advice…_

“What do you think my next move should be then, wise master?” 

It’s worth a shot, Chaeyoung thinks. Even if Nayeon doesn’t do it, at least she had the chance to offer the idea. 

“Apologize to Jeongyeon unnie.” _No regrets._ “Start with that.” 

***

They don’t get any chance to talk when Nayeon and Chaeyoung return to the group in the entertainment room. Everyone’s too busy in their own worlds to even pay attention. 

Jeongyeon and Sana are playing against each other in an NES classic while Jihyo and Dahyun play an gruelling match of Pokemon pogs. Momo and Mina are quiet by the side, taking turns with the other NES Zoomer controller. 

The only time Nayeon does approach Jeongyeon is when they all agree to drive back to the dorms after class hours (Sana stays at the Momo’s dorm every other day, when she gets bored at home). 

Chaeyoung finds herself in between them _yet again-–_ this time, quite literally. 

Jeongyeon stands by her bed side and Nayeon, on her own. Since Chaeyoung’s smaller bed is found literally in the middle of the two seniors’, she’s left with no choice but to uncomfortably sit in silence, darting looks in between the two older girls in their own worlds–Chaeyoung’s afraid her mother is cowering away _again_ and Jeongyeon is being too dense at this–yet the sexual tension in the room could make _anyone_ burst. 

“Jeong, can we talk?” 

Chaeyoung doesn’t even stifle back the sigh of relief that escapes her. _Oh my god. Finally._

Jeongyeon doesn’t pay her any attention and only remains totally absorbed in fluffing her pillows. The eyes that stare at her every move had every capability of boring holes on her back. She refuses to acknowledge it. 

Chaeyoung notices this and finds it quite fascinating. Somehow, seeing her mom get ignored is fun. 

“Jeong.” Nayeon calls out again. She watches with thinning patience as Jeongyeon masters the art of pillow-fluffing and blanket-pressing. “Can we talk? Please?”

Chaeyoung assumed Jeongyeon didn’t have _that_ much willpower to restrain herself from not, at the very least, throwing a pillow at Nayeon’s way, but she is and she’s _very much_ determined to make this harder for Nayeon. 

_This is like watching a live drama. I could use some popcorn right now._

“Jeong—”

“I swear to god, Nayeon, if you call me one more time, I will—”

“Then talk to me!” Nayeon exclaims in utter despair, stomping her way over to Jeongyeon’s side of the room. 

Chaeyoung moves back on her bed, excited for the heightening drama. _This would literally be the perfect time for some popcorn and—_

“Chaeyoung, can you stay outside first?” 

_What._ “What?”

Nayeon looks at her with pleading eyes, disagreeing wasn’t really ever an option. Jeongyeon looked like she was considering it but Nayeon catches her hand as she runs it through the blanket of her bed, and pulls it closer, forcing Jeongyeon’s attention on her.

They share hushed hisses and Jeongyeon looks like she’s trying to yank her hand away but Nayeon’s hold is firm. Chaeyoung only gets to witness that for a few seconds before she’s kicked out of the room by her mother, in an otherwise inconsiderate way (“Just...stay outside first, I guess?”), thrusted into the desolate hallway in her pajamas, during this moderately chilly night, all by herself.

Miraculously, Dahyun happens to pass by the hallway in the perfect timing, clad in her own pajamas, sporting dorky thick-framed round glasses and a messy bun perched on top of her head. “What are you doing outside of your room at night?” 

Chaeyoung stands up from her seat on the floor. “They kicked me out.” 

“They did _what_?!” 

“Oh, no; not _literally_ ”, Chaeyoung brushes the dust off her shirt. “Well, they _did_ kick me out but they didn’t _remove_ me from staying with them–..."

“Oh, okay. I get it.” Dahyun nods with a smile. “Do you want to stay with me in my room or do you want to wait outside of yours to make sure they don’t kill each other?”

Chaeyoung sees the inviting door behind the golden-haired girl, adorned with stickers ranging from Dooly the Little Monster and the Rugrats to Will Smith from his Fresh Prince of Bel-Air days and the Spice Girls in their legendary Wannabe clothes. 

“Sure, why not? Jeongyeon and Nayeon unnie are probably gonna take a while.” Chaeyoung shrugs, following Dahyun into her room with aunt Jihyo. She looks back at the door of her room, expecting a thud or any yelling (probably from her mom) but nothing comes around. 

_They’re really going to talk this through, huh. It’s going to really happen._

Chaeyoung is left wondering, as she gets welcomed into Dahyun and aunt Jihyo’s _cooler and more organized_ dorm, if she didn’t end up tampering with the past, would this exact night happen? Did her mom do the exact same thing yet still ended up leaving everyone behind? Is the, somehow, the first step into changing the present now that she knows _who_ her mother’s happiness is?

 _God. I hope she is mom’s happiness._ Chaeyoung remembers seeing the smile on her mother’s face while wholly accepting her feelings for Jeongyeon. It was a smile she had never seen before. _I would love to see her smile like that forever._

_***_

(In the next following days, things start to change.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can't save people. You can only love them.


	9. i want you back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A portion of Yoo Jeongyeon, the part that is able to think clearly, sensibly, and logically, tells her with bold, capitalized letters etched on the forefront of her mind: RUN AWAY WHILE YOU STILL CAN. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of my babe's birthday, Happy Birthday to our main gal Chaeyoungie ~
> 
> psa,, i have no experience in tarot reading these are based on research haha

“Can we talk? Please?” 

A portion of Yoo Jeongyeon, the part that is able to think clearly, sensibly, and logically, tells her with bold, capitalized letters etched on the forefront of her mind: **RUN AWAY WHILE YOU STILL CAN.**

From this wonted situation, this circumstance they have somehow managed to normalize into their routines–Nayeon standing a few feet away, firm and determined on proving a point, undecided between sorting a compromise or initiating mutual destruction. The rational part tells her to _run away_ from it. Jihyo and Dahyun still have room for another spacer. She can take the floor. Or Momo wouldn’t mind having a spontaneous sleepover. Yumama never does the mandated dorm checks anymore. No one would get in trouble. 

_Run away while you still can._

These are the crucial minutes where Im Nayeon is standing on the edge of her thoughts. Everything around them is unpredictable and unsystematic. They have established this into their habits and tendencies, and despite how, for most of the time, at least _one_ of them had been thinking rationally, never, _not once,_ did the outcome _not_ include weeks of avoiding each other, pretending the issue didn’t exist, and hating each other with every cell in their body. Every single time this happened, Jeongyeon always ended up with her brain barely holding on in five percent battery. Exhaustion came for her, quiet and subdued, like a grim reaper ready to take her soul. 

_Run away while you still can._

After the storm in the parking lot, the group confrontation with Jihyo, and the realization that they have yet to decide on anything for their _stupid_ performance in the school festival, Jeongyeon thinks forcing a civilized conversation with Nayeon while barely being able to think rationally should be the _last_ thing on her mind. She shouldn’t even be thinking about it. 

She should be yanking her hand away from Nayeon’s firm grip around her wrist. She should walk out of the room and sleep somewhere else for the night. Or a few days. Whatever. She should be anywhere but here, doing anything but getting involved with Im Nayeon again. 

_Run away while you still can._ The rational part of Jeongyeon tells her so. Everything would be easier if she walks out before the birth of a storm. But. 

But as numb as her entire body feels and as laden as the space in between her chest is like, Jeongyeon feels the rational part of her slipping away, like the travel of sound in a long, dark tunnel. She blames it on the exhaustion, on the tiny control she has over her emotions and the limited consideration she has for her sanity. 

Because, as considerably big as the rational portion is, the one with her mind telling her to save herself from the trouble and, _for once,_ prefer respite than mutual destruction, the part that tells her to give in to Im Nayeon is bigger and more intense, all-consuming and all-encompassing. And Jeongyeon finds herself surrendering to it with her entire being; allowing it to keep her firmly in place, standing at the foot of her bed, the receiving end of an overwhelming gaze from Im Nayeon’s eyes.

“I’m tired, Nayeon.” Jeongyeon didn’t mean it to sound so weak, as if she’s pleading than she is stating it, but it happens. She’s too exhausted to hide the tremor in her voice or the way an invisible weight pulls down at the tip of her brows. “If you’re just going to yell at me for earlier, save yourself the trouble. I’m too exhausted to deal with everything right now.”

“I won’t. Just...hear me out.” Nayeon softly tugs at Jeongyeon’s hand and pulls her towards the end of her bed. They exchange positions and Jeongyeon lets herself be pushed down into a seat, legs hanging limply by the edge. 

“What is this about?” For the sake of the tense atmosphere’s relief, Jeongyeon gives a half-suppressed, typically scornful laugh. “You just kicked out Chaeyoung and the poor kid is wearing weird-looking pajamas. Save her from humiliation, please.”

Nayeon understands the half-assed effort. She chuckles too. “Poor her. This might take long.” 

Jeongyeon pretends her heart didn’t just plummet down to her stomach. She looks at the girl before her with deep onyx eyes, staring into all the small corners and crevices of her soul, trying to find a clue at what _this_ might be. 

“Okay…” Nayeon visibly pales when she takes a deep breath to compose herself. She had always prided herself for her ability to take control in every possible situation she finds herself in. Even at the face of cheer squad arguments on which routine to follow (it’s always Jennie’s version against hers), or friendly debates with just _anyone_ possible (of course, Nayeon _never_ loses to anyone), she’s always had a grasp at herself and the circumstance, allowing her breathing time to formulate the correct words and the precise move for a glorious win. 

It’s why she’s always so confident around people. At any given situation, she wins. “Hear me out, please?” 

But Jeongyeon’s never been _just_ any given situation _._ The girl’s never been _just_ something _._ It was like a modern narration of Icarus and the Sun. Nayeon who desired too much and Jeongyeon who protected her from soaring too high. _The greater the distance, the more damage._

It’s the same tonight, and Nayeon briefly wonders if Jeongyeon has even the slightest idea just how much powerful she is over her. _She’s standing on a pedestal and she doesn’t even know it._

“Sana used to teach me Japanese in between water breaks during training.” Nayeon starts with that and it’s substantially out of the topic. Jeongyeon looks just as confused out as she is. “She taught me a phrase. I mean, she taught me _a lot_ of things but I only remembered a few phrases.” 

“I’m gonna tell Sana that and—"

“ _Hitomebore_ means love at first sight.” Nayeon racks the corners of her brain for the correct information. “And _Koi No Yokan_ is my favorite one. It reminds me of you.” 

Maybe it’s the waning rationality in Jeongyeon or the lack of proper blood flow from her heart’s unsteady beating; whatever it is, embarrassing herself has become more effortless and faster now. ‘I swear to god, if that’s just another way to call me out in Japanese, I am going to _end_ you—”

“Shut up. Let me finish.”

The only thing holding Nayeon back from using her _personal_ method of shutting Yoo Jeongyeon up is the distance between them. Jeongyeon is a head smaller from the way she’s seated on the edge of the bed, and it would be _too_ awkward for Nayeon if aimed wrong. 

“ _Koi No Yokan_ means premonition of love.” _There it is. There’s no taking it back now._ “Jeongyeon, I have the most dysfunctional way of showing my feelings for someone.”

“No shit.” Jeongyeon huffs. “You once shoved a mirror on a kid’s face just to tell them they didn’t look half as ugly as they thought they were.” 

“My methods _are_ questionable, but it was the truth!”

“Yeah? Well–”

“That’s not the point!” Jeongyeon flinches at Nayeon’s indignant shout. “Listen to me!”

It’s a beat of silence, and Nayeon is looking down at Jeongyeon’s eyes, knowing all too well this silence means something and it’s always one of the two: she’s overwhelmed or she’s trying to come up with a lame joke again to avoid the awkwardness. And if it’s the latter, Nayeon won’t hold back anymore. She takes a calculated step forward, just enough for Jeongyeon not to notice but enough for her to lessen the distance. 

A nervous smile presses at the corners of Jeongyeon’s lips. She huffs. “What? Are you trying to be a fortune teller or—”

It only takes one more step for Nayeon’s foot to hit the wooden legs of her bed, indicative of Jeongyeon’s doom. Yes, Jeongyeon is absolutely the stronger one between them (it’s debatable but Nayeon doesn’t have the benefit of the cheerleading team bases’ upper body strength given she’s a flyer), but Nayeon is more agile and, between them right now, has the upperhand at level-headedness. 

“I said _listen to me._ ”

Every move is well-calculated and thoroughly executed, and Jeongyeon doesn’t even get to spare herself a second when a grip pushes down on both of her hands and holds it up by the sides of her head, her entire upper body pressed down on soft, purple sheets.

“Nayeon, what the fuck—”

“I told you to shut up.” Nayeon’s face is a dangerous inch away from Jeongyeon’s. If the latter has even an inkling of self-protection left, she won’t risk messing with Nayeon anymore. Unfortunately (and fortunately), Jeongyeon always had a thing for messing with the wrong people.

“What are you gonna do about it?” It’s a taunt, a good one. Jeongyeon is very much capable of getting under Nayeon’s skin. She knows everything even when she says she doesn’t. She knows how perfect their bodies fit each other, fingers interlacing like puzzle pieces, corners and crevices matched and burning up at a single touch. Jeongyeon knows _a lot_ of things about Nayeon. She says she doesn't, but she knows. They're dangerous for each other. They always have been. 

“Jeong, I’m sorry. For everything.” 

Because Jeongyeon likes to pretend she doesn't know the answer and Nayeon just _loves_ getting it out of her.

"Are you _seriously_ apologizing to me while pinning me down on your stupid—"

“ _Look at me._ ” Nayeon removes her hold on Jeongyeon’s hands and moves them to her jaw. 

There’s something hidden beneath the layers of frustration and uneasiness in Jeongyeon’s eyes when she does look at Nayeon. Nayeon looks for it, the eyes that tell her stories of inner battles. To give in or to stay sane. 

“I like you, Yoo Jeongyeon.” 

If there’s one thing Nayeon knows about the girl underneath her, it’s that Jeongyeon _always_ wins her games but always _loses_ to herself. 

“Shut up.” She captures Nayeon’s face and reels her down, seizing her lips in a fervent kiss, strong and assertive, and just about pleasantly rough. Nayeon finds her hands falling limp at the passion of the moment, failing to support her upper body just as Jeongyeon deepens the kiss, as if searching for something in her lips. 

Everything about them is unpredictable and unsystematic, but Jeongyeon knows Nayeon’s body like it was etched into her mind, firmly stamped in place. 

She knows how Nayeon’s lungs are weaker than hers–despite the vigorous cardio she makes the entire cheer squad do–and how the cheer captain is _always_ the first one to run out of breath.

(Nayeon pulls away first, gasping. “Jeongyeon—” 

but Jeongyeon draws her back in with a kiss, swallowing the gasp that escapes her lips) 

And Jeongyeon knows Nayeon has the weaker upper body–again, despite her excessive pride and self-satisfaction in her core muscles. (Nayeon feels herself numbing at the intensity of everything. She pulls away for the second time, breathless. “I can’t feel my body.”

It’s their own language, Nayeon’s convoluted way of saying she doesn’t want to do the work this time. Jeongyeon only nods before pulling her down again and changing positions, Nayeon pinned down on her bed and Jeongyeon straddling her hips.) 

Somewhere in the unpredictable and unsystematic escapades, Jeongyeon remembers the door. In the middle of trying to tear each other’s clothes off each other, she stops and pulls back to look at Nayeon. “Did you lock the door?” 

But Nayeon has _never_ been a good multitasker. When she focuses on something, she asserts her entire self to accomplishing it. At the moment, her focus and accomplishment is centered on Jeongyeon’s _ridiculous_ button-up. 

“What the _hell_ is this monstrosity it’s literally ruining the—”

“Ugh. You’re such a loser.” Jeongyeon groans and proceeds to lift the shirt up, taking it off until she’s only in her undergarments. She throws it somewhere away, accidentally knocking down one of the picture frames on the shelf. “Oops.” 

Nayeon rolls her eyes. “Who’s the loser now?” 

Jeongyeon only scoffs before resuming their activities. 

***

“Did you hear that?” 

It’s Dahyun’s idea to maximize the space in the dorm by wiggling her way into Jihyo’s bed with Chaeyoung in hand. Jihyo is annoyed, judging by her constant “Dahyun what the heck?” or the “Dahyun you literally have your own bed!” but she makes no effort in putting it into action and moving away or kicking the two younger girls off her bed. Jihyo does the exact opposite, frankly, and even holds on to Chaeyoung when the younger girl _almost_ falls off the bed. 

“Maybe that’s just Dubu hitting her head—”

“No”, Chaeyoung answers, taking a peek at the golden-haired girl by Jihyo’s other side, already snoring her way into dream world. “It’s coming from the dorm.” 

Jihyo’s nose is tucked into a chemistry book, thick-rounded glasses resting a little by the tip of her nose as she reads her way into the night. “Go check it out. They might be killing each other.” 

Chaeyoung only nods and gets out of the bed. It’s tempting to ask Jihyo to save her space but to impose is the last of Chaeyoung’s plans. Besides, _aunt_ Jihyo doesn’t even move a muscle when Dahyun’s drooling a little and is pressed against her side uncomfortably. She saves the younger girl's space without a word. 

Chaeyoung walks out of Dahyun and Jihyo’s dorm and crosses the hall over to her room with her mom and Jeongyeon. The door is unlocked. She turns the knob and pushes it open. “Hey, we thought we heard something from—”

“Fuck!”

“What the hell—” 

“AH!”

A shirt is thrown at Chaeyoung’s direction but it’s too late. The kid is already running out of the room and back to the other dorm across the hallway, shutting the door close behind her and scratching the vivid images of Jeongyeon on top of her _mother—_

 _“_ AH!” 

“Ya!” Jihyo hisses, pressing her index over to her lips. “Shh! Keep it down there. Dahyun’s—” but when she sees the girl by the door, vehemently rubbing at her eyes, she immediately sits up. “Are you okay? What happened?” 

“Nayeon and...and...Jeongyeon unnie...I….I saw them…”

“Killing each other?” 

Chaeyoung shakes her head aggressively, rattling even her brain inside. “N-No! They...they…” 

But her words are cut off by the heavy knocking on the door, followed by Jeongyeon’s voice. “Chaeyoung? It’s not what it looks like! Open up the door–Nayeon, shh. Let me do this–Chaeyoung! Jihyo, open the freaking door!”

Inevitably, Dahyun wakes up from all the ruckus, disgruntled and barely awake. She falls back on the bed again and returns to sleep. Jihyo sighs into her book. _Just one night of peace. Is that too much to wish for?_

She gets out of bed and walks over to the door but Chaeyoung stops her from unlocking it. “No! I can’t see them!” She clings into one of Jihyo’s legs and pleads. 

“What?” Jihyo tries shaking Chaeyoung off but to no avail. “What do you mean you can’t see them—"

“JIHYO OPEN THE DOOR!” It’s Nayeon who yells this time, banging the door hard, Jihyo already _knows_ Yumama will be talking to all of them tomorrow. 

“Chaeyoung doesn’t want me to open it!” 

There’s hushed whispering on the other side of the wooden door, followed by a string of curses Chaeyoung just _knows_ is her mother’s bad mouth (okay, she’s probably going to vomit at that inappropriate remark—)

“Fine! Okay. Just...Chae?” Jeongyeon’s voice hushes down to a low. From the sound of it, the girl must have her face near into the door. Chaeyoung makes _no_ acknowledgment, unable to disassociate the sight she’s just seen with the voice she’s hearing. 

“Just don’t...don’t think about it too much…?” 

Jihyo is scowling at the door, as if Jeongyeon and Nayeon could see her. Chaeyoung doesn’t let go of her leg until they hear the door across the hall close. 

The moment the coast is clear, Chaeyoung unwraps her clinging hold around aunt Jihyo’s leg and barely crawls her way to the bathroom, unable to hold the nausea clawing its way up her throat and out of her mouth. Never in her entire life did she expect to see such an unbecoming sight. Not even in movies. 

_Oh my god. Do they have bleach for eyes here??_

***

In the following days after that _disturbing_ happening, things start to change. 

***

In a fated, weird twist of happenings, the principal makes an announcement through the poor PA system a few days later, on the morning Chaeyoung is supposed to be attending her first-ever class, every student involved in the talent competition is excused from their lectures and, in exchange, is expected to utilize class hours as practice time for the school festival. 

Chaeyoung isn’t sure whether it’s her pure luck (because _really_ , doing homework without the help of Google would probably take up more of her time than the actual mission she’s supposed to be doing) or it’s just a remarkable concurrence of events. A coincidence. When Sana, Mina, and Momo are still required to attend their trainings in cheer squad and soccer team, and Jihyo and Dahyun manage their co-curricular activities with the student council and the welcoming committee respectively, Chaeyoung is left under the supervision of Jeongyeon and Nayeon. And after what happened a few nights ago–of Chaeyoung’s unmitigated misfortune getting to _accidentally_ witness such a venereal position–they’re the _last_ people the poor kid wants to be left in a room with. 

It’s just a remarkable concurrence of events, a favorable, golden opportunity in such an ill-chosen timing. Thankfully, none of them speak of it. No one _dares_ bring it up even when it’s just the three of them in the ballroom somewhere on the topmost floor of the main building, a dance hall their group was fortunate enough to reserve only for themselves because they had Park Jihyo’s power. 

It just so happened that avoiding the talk and pushing away any vivid memory of the sight apparently didn’t mean Chaeyoung would be spared from noticing the subtle changes between her mother and Jeongyeon. The group had barely been complete again to be able to make decisions on anything besides the roles of each member, and Chaeyoung is hanging on the edge of her sanity because she needs someone– _anyone–_ to tell her she’s just seeing things and she _definitely_ did not just see Nayeon and Jeongyeon hold hands for more than what can be considered accidental. 

Thankfully, they all get to set a fixed date and agree to attend regardless of varsity training, co-curricular meetings, and other personal affairs, because it’s been a week since the group was formed, a few days since they’ve decided on roles, and nothing has been accomplished other than those while the talent festival only draws near.

They all meet one afternoon at the ballroom, a large hardwood-floored space once used by the dance sports teams before they were disbanded a few years ago, and, as expected, given their anomalous free schedules, Nayeon, Jeongyeon, and Chaeyoung arrive first. 

Today, Nayeon and Jeongyeon work harder in their act. Chaeyoung knows because it’s obvious. She’s just about to refill her borrowed water jug from Jeongyeon at the stations downstairs but her leaving meant Nayeon and Jeongyeon would be left _alone_ in the room together, unsupervised and with all the freedom in the world, and god forbid that. 

“I’ll come with you!” The two offer at the same time, just before Chaeyoung can exit the room.

It’s really just amusing now, to be honest. Watching Jeongyeon and Nayeon tiptoe around each other in front of Chaeyoung is professional entertainment at its finest. It started becoming laughter-inducing whenever the three of them were left in the dorm together and Chaeyoung would pretend to sleep just to hear the hushed voices of Nayeon and Jeongyeon bickering about anything and everything–and most of the time, very inappropriate things.

“Um...I can go alone…” Chaeyoung takes another cautious step to the door. “You two can stay here…”

Jeongyeon and Nayeon dangerously tread closer, simultaneously exclaiming to their horror. “No!” 

Chaeyoung freezes halfway into reaching for the door knob, as if caught red-handed stealing something and trying to get away. 

Thankfully, another someone else turns the knob for her and opens the door, breaking the intense moment between the three. 

“Sana said she’ll be running late to the—”

Unfortunately, it’s the _last_ person Nayeon and Jeongyeon should be left in the same room with unsupervised. 

Mina is cut off by the sight that greets her in the ballroom. Nayeon and Jeongyeon stand a few feet away, ready to launch themselves at Chaeyoung who is frozen in place just beside the door, like a deer caught in the headlights. 

Today must be Chaeyoung’s lucky day. Her mission has gradually downgraded itself to the effortless level, with Nayeon and Jeongyeon doing the work for her. Her worries as of late had been getting her mother in the same room as her aunt Mina, for them to at least get a head-start on fixing whatever it is between them–it’s mostly grudge and spite (no matter how aunt Mina seems incapable of having such)

“Jeongyeon unnie!” Chaeyoung blurts out, startling everyone in the room. She walks over to Jeongyeon to grab her arm and drag her out. “ _You_ come with me. Mina unnie and Nayeon unnie will go over their PR roles.”

(After much deliberation, it was Momo and Sana who ended up in choreography–given the surprising dance background of the soccer co-captain and Jeongyeon’s bitter “You dance?! What _can’t_ you do!?"–and Jihyo is the leader, because they need connections and someone level-headed enough to stay sane for the group. When Dahyun pelts their leader with incessant whining, for the sake of peace, Jihyo gives everyone roles. Chaeyoung and Dahyun ended up as the TMs–an abbreviation for Teen Managers, second-leaders, but the entire group knows it’s Jihyo’s short term for Troublemakers–and Mina, Nayeon, and Jeongyeon are the public relations or the _faces_ of the group because of their popularities.)

Jeongyeon tries to fight against the grip Chaeyoung has on her arm, but the door is already closing behind them and her head’s going to fall off trying to follow the dwindling sight she has of Nayeon and Mina together in the same room.

They take the stairs away from the classrooms because despite the exemption to classes, the majority of the student body population are not part of the school festival preparations and are still stuck snoring their ways to lectures until later. 

Jeongyeon almost trips on her step but thankfully, Chaeyoung still has a firm hold around her hand. When they reach the grounds, the silence and stillness of the student-free campus greets them kindly. The stairs lead to an open access of the green field, just an entire rectangular pasture of grass right in the middle of the campus, connecting the buildings, where most of the students eat at or hang out during break times. 

It would have been _such_ a majestic and tranquilling sight if only Jihyo wasn’t standing a few feet away, in all the glory of her assertiveness and perfectly-ironed uniform, her invisible halo glitching over her head as she scarily yaps the head off a taller, muscular guy. 

“What is she doing…?” Chaeyoung trails off, a little worried for the guy as she watches her smaller aunt Jihyo reprimand him. He’s a good two heads taller but obviously, height doesn’t matter when it comes to Jihyo because the guy looks _this_ close to kneeling on the ground and begging in tears. 

Whatever it is they’re talking about, it ends before Jeongyeon and Chaeyoung can even walk over to check the situation out. Jihyo turns on her heels just in time to see the two girls by the end of the staircase, brows knitted in confusion. 

Jihyo struts over to them, overflowing with the poise of a supermodel while carrying her HP Omnibook in her hand. 

“What did you say to Jackson?” Jeongyeon frowns. “He looked like he was about to cry there.” 

“I just told him to _never_ let you borrow his car again or else I’m going to break his other leg.” Jihyo answers nonchalantly with a shrug o f her shoulders. “What are you two doing here?” 

Chaeyoung lifts up the empty water jug in her hold. “Refill.” 

“Why do you need Jeongyeon to come with you? You can reach the fountain. It’s not that high.” 

Jeongyeon doesn’t even stifle back her laughter. 

“Unnieee!” Chaeyoung drones, at a loss for words at the attack on her height. It’s becoming a natural topic of insult for them now, it’s especially frustrating because Chaeyoung can’t think of any other retaliation.

“Okay, okay”, Jihyo giggles, ruffling Chaeyoung’s hair like an owner to her puppy. “While you’re at it, go get Dahyun from the gag trio. They’re terrorizing her there. Hurry up too. I have song choices for us to go through.” 

Jeongyeon and Chaeyoung only salute to the group leader before watching her go and disappear out of sight. 

“Why don’t you go refill your jug and I’ll go get Dahyun? Let’s meet there as soon as you’re done.” Jeongyeon suggests, knowing all too well how impatient Jihyo gets when she’s at her momentum. Chaeyoung obliges, aware of the same concern. The last thing they should be looking forward to is a group practice with a strict Jihyo. 

They separate ways and Chaeyoung heads for the water refilling stations while Jeongyeon runs over to save Dahyun’s gullible ass– _yet again_ –from the terrorizing gag trio who just _love_ playing tricks and practical jokes on the softhearted sophomore. 

***

Kim Dahyun is easily the brightest person anyone would ever have the opportunity to meet. She was bright in all the meanings of it. With her golden personality, her sunshine hair, and her shrouded intelligence. Her smiles held kindness in them, a gentleness that waned in most people, and her eyes gleamed with a thousand suns. She was the kind of person who lived how she believed people should, as if she were the stars on a dark night or the calm region at the center of a storm. Even while her excessive tenderness towards people often subjected her to the shorter end of the stick, Dahyun persisted with her secret mission to spread love and peace to the world. 

Everything about Dahyun reminds Jeongyeon of the brightness she had kept hidden inside, the one isolated from the ravenous hands of the cruel world. It's why Jeongyeon had always taken the protective role to Dahyun for herself. She had always been the knight in shining armor for her friends. Jeongyeon would protect them from everything embodying or associated with the forces of the devil. For today, evil takes the form of three hyperactive boys overly obsessed with Tupac Shakur's wardrobe, the popular gag trio Hoshi, DK, and Seungkwan.

"Unnie!" Dahyun is smiling and waving her hands conspicuously. She’s standing in front of what looks like a reused lemonade stand with a cardboard sign displaying **FREE FORTUNE TELLING!! It’s real!!** in such crabby penmanship, written using colored markers alongside a drawing of what looks like a fish bowl floating on a magic carpet (Upon closer inspection, Jeongyeon finds out it’s a crystal ball).

“You’re just in time!” Jeongyeon doesn’t even get to ask what _this_ is because of Dahyun’s excitement, immediately dragging her over when she’s just a few steps away, much to the gag trio’s pleasure. 

It’s exactly what it says on the cardboard sign (which DK proudly states is designed by him); For their school festival performance, Seungkwan is going to showcase a talent the world is not ready to see: extrasensory perception (or, what his “manager”– _it’s just Hoshi_ –calls, “tarot reading skills”).

“Is this even real?” Jeongyeon huffs, narrowing her eyes at the mischievous three boys. Dahyun seems to be completely enthralled by the deck of cards on the table in front, it’s up to Jeongyeon to save her from losing what remains of her lunch money before these three earn more than the talent show’s cash prize from their swindling. 

“Of course it is, noona!” Seungkwan answers with an indignant gasp. “These are American cards! I bought them when I went with my mom on her business trip. I even got a certificate from the old man.” 

Jeongyeon frowns. “Old man? You mean your grandfather?” 

Seungkwan shakes his head while beginning to shuffle the cards. 

“Your uncle?” 

“Nope.” He answers with a pop at the last syllable before proceeding to lay the cards on the table in what he calls a “spread”. “It was really just an old man, noona.” 

The way Seungkwan actually sounds and looks serious frankly worries Jeongyeon. 

“Is this going to take long?” Nothing about this feels good but nevertheless, Jeongyeon lets Dahyun have her fun. Hoshi doesn’t seem to be charging anyways.

“We can do a three-card reading if you’re in a hurry”, DK assures behind Seungkwan. “Both of you can pick.” 

“Oh, I’m not joining—” But Jeongyeon’s protest falls into a deaf ears when Dahyun literally shrieks with a raise of her hand, “I’ll choose first!”

The cards are flipped upside down and spread in a rotated U shape. Jeongyeon silently watches over the golden-haired girl as she meticulously chooses from the spread with every fiber in her body, eyes closed and palm hovering over the cards as if she could feel their _energy._

After what feels like an entire minute of “transferring energies”–according to Seungkwan–Dahyun _finally_ picks a card somewhere in the middle portion of the spread. Following the self-proclaimed clairvoyant’s instructions, Dahyun flips the card herself before sliding it over to the center of the table.

The two _inquirers_ –Dahyun and tagged-along Jeongyeon–only stare with knitted brows at the card before them. It’s an armored man–a knight–riding a horse, looking like he’s charging at someone or something aggressively. Below the card reads _Knight of Swords._

The disheartened “ _oh.”_ that inadvertently escapes the three boys already makes Jeongyeon regret everything. The gag trio may be the source of laughter and mischief in school, following the footsteps of their _father_ , Jackson Wang, but Jeongyeon knows candor when she sees it. The way Seungkwan visibly pales means no good. 

“Is it bad?” Dahyun worryingly asks for both of them. 

Seungkwan stammers, “Uh...we can’t say yet. It depends on the next two cards you pick.” 

Even though Jeongyeon’s insides feel like it’s getting squashed, when Seungkwan tells her to pick the second card, she follows. In hopes that maybe, the next card can influence this Knight of Swords for the good and call for a better, less dejected reaction from their self-proclaimed clairvoyant and his two assistants.

Jeongyeon draws from the lower portion of the spread. She flips the card over. They don’t get a better reaction. 

It’s a drawing of another knight, this one lying down on a bed with a sword underneath it. Above the knight hangs three other swords. Below the card reads _Four of Swords._

What takes up Seungkwan’s face isn’t horror–much to Jeongyeon’s little relief (because no matter how she likes to say she _doesn’t_ believe in things like this–because really, she doesn’t–a part of her refuses to fully close the door)–the expression on his face is more akin to uncertainty, as if the sequence of cards before him is not what he expected to see. 

“The last card. The two of you can choose if you want.” 

For the sake of relieving themselves of their mutual apprehension, Jeongyeon and Dahyun decide on a card for the both of them. They decide longer, tentative and unsure now after the unfavorable reactions they received from their last two cards. 

After careful and anxious deliberation, Dahyun’s hand hovers over a card on the top portion of the spread. She almost picks it up. 

“Unnie!” 

Chaeyoung’s frame and build may be smaller than both of them but when she literally launches herself and grabs a hold of Dahyun and Jeongyeon’s shoulders, refilled water jug almost hitting the side of Jeongyeon’s face in the process, the two girls are instantly at a loss of balance, almost knocking over the table of cards before them. 

Chaeyoung peers in between Dahyun and Jeongyeon’s heads, ovr at the spread of cards and the two flipped ones. Her eyes ultimately light up. “Oooh! Are you guys doing a tarot card reading?” 

“Gag Trio at your service, strange tiny girl.” Seungkwan bows, lifting a non-existent hat over his head. Chaeyoung only looks at him weirdly as he begins introducing himself and the two taller boys behind him. As soon as the introductions are done (and their roles as artist, talent, and manager are made clear), Chaeyoung asks to pick the next and final card, much to Jeongyeon and Dahyun’s relief. 

Something about the younger girl suddenly coming into this gut-wrenching moment is like opening a window in a room filled with smoke, a chance for some breathing air in the suffocating space. Whatever uncomfortable twist Jeongyeon had been feeling earlier had somehow managed to unwind now. 

“Go ahead, strange tiny—”

“My name is Chaeyoung.” 

“Go ahead, strange tiny Chaeyoung”, Seungkwan quips. “Pick the last card and then I’ll read your fortune.” 

Chaeyoung only rolls her eyes before closely inspecting each upside down card, as if she can see their drawings just by staring. DK tries to make some funny comment on how Chaeyoung can’t _transmit_ _her energy_ by scrutinizing the spread, but before he can even finish it, the new girl is already picking up a card from the middle portion. She flips it over. 

“Oh wow.” The flabbergasted reaction is frown-inducing. Seungkwan slides the card towards the two other ones and aligns them together in a sequence. “This is literally such a surprising addition? A weird one, to be honest. It’s like a turnaround of events. A plot twist like in those—”

“Just tell us what those mean, DJ Boo.” Jeongyeon cuts off. She can already sense Jihyo’s impatience from where they’re standing. “We still have practice upstairs.” 

Seungkwan lets out a defeated sigh and proceeds to explain the meanings and his “reading of their future” following the sequence of the three cards chosen.

Dahyun’s _Knight of Swords_ could have meant a lot of things but after the second card’s turnup, it didn’t show such a bright outcome in the spread. A Knight of Swords, in this context, meant destruction or aggressive energy, like the drawing on the card, of a knight charging at something. This could be seen as a reflection of the inquirer–Jeongyeon, Dahyun, and Chaeyoung (but mostly the first two)–of them charging at something aggressively, eager to achieve something only to end up ruining it. With its unfavorable outcomes, the card was feared. _Sometimes, it depicted death itself._

Jeongyeon’s _Four of Swords_ only added fuel to the flames. It’s the card that generally means stillness, like a time in life where everything feels like a pause. With the first card meaning aggression with a possibly destructive outcome, the _Four of Swords_ can mean the moment of mourning that follows.

Ultimately, the third card can be the defining moment of the entire sequence. The only meaning it can contribute is _death_ itself. 

But at the turn up of the third card, “It’s like divine intervention.” Seungkwan can’t believe it for himself and Jeongyeon finds it unfathomable how both she and Dahyun feel so _relieved_ at the result, no matter how “unbelievable” it is. 

“It’s like a game of Pac-Man and you’re cornered and about to lose but then there’s a secret button pressed, and now you’re out of the situation. That’s how hyung plays the game. He has cheats.” Seungkwan leers over his shoulders, at the equally annoyed Hoshi. 

It’s Dahyun who speaks up for the two astonished girls beside her. “So you’re telling us that something bad is going to happen to us but there’s going to be a good outcome?” 

“If you put it that way, yes”, Seungkwan says as he begins collecting his cards again. “Nine of Cups generally mean wishes. In the future outcome, it means your heart’s fulfillment. If we read it by the sequence of your cards, it can mean that something bad will happen, but there will be good to it too.” 

DK huffs from the back. “This wouldn’t have been the result if she didn’t come, noona.” He purses his lips towards Chaeyoung’s direction. “She’s your lucky charm.” 

There’s a sort of inner stillness inside Chaeyoung that she can’t quite pinpoint to, a sort of contentment in the situation. She once bought a Magic 8 ball and had it determine every challenging decision she ever had to make when she was a kid. Believing in things like fortune telling had been Chaeyoung’s guilty pleasure. To hear of Jeongyeon’s and Dahyun’s _fortune_ (which isn’t surprising knowing how there is no aunt Dahyun and aunt Jeongyeon in her present) and the role she’s about to play in them makes Chaeyoung feel a certain type of riveting fear inside of her, of the big character she’s about to play and most of all, the plan she has to pull off perfectly. 

She hides her inner turmoil with a quirky question on the gag trio’s school festival performance. 

Hoshi, Chaeyoung remembers, goes on a lengthy explanation of how _this_ is more than what the festival and the student population deserves to see, and even worth more than the cash prize itself, and while Chaeyoung still finds it questionable (“Exactly how will you guys pull this off on stage?”) Jeongyeon and Dahyun look convinced enough not to ask Seungkwan the clairvoyant any more questions. 

An image of Jihyo yapping at them for taking too long is what pulls Jeongyeon back to reality. She decides it’s time for them to go or else they’ll be facing something bad earlier than expected. 

“Thanks for...whatever _this_ is, DJ Boo”, she smiles and throws a high-five at Hoshi’s direction. “We’ll support you guys at the show!”

Dahyun high-fives the three boys too. “Thank you for the fortune game! It was fun to--”

“Wait!” DK pulls out a jar from somewhere underneath the table of their stand. On it is a sticker with the same chicken-scratch penmanship, displaying the words **TIP** . Jeongyeon pretends she can’t read and tries _desperately_ to push Dahyun and Chaeyoung away, but the golden-haired girl is already pulling out her velcro wallet from her pocket, looking for scraps of money.

“Dahyun, no”, Jeongyeon hisses, trying to yank the wallet away only to fail miserably when Dahyun drops her coins in the jar. There goes the last scraps of Kim Dahyun’s lunch money. Jeongyeon has failed to save her dear gullible friend. 

***

When the three girls get back to the ballroom, the entire group is already complete and Jihyo is _mad._ Each and everyone has already changed into a set of more comfortable clothes for easier movements even though the only thing they’ll probably be able to accomplish today is the song choice and whatever it is they’ll be performing (Momo offered to play drums regardless of the type of their performance but after she accidentally punched a hole on Yoon Dowoon's snare drum with the intention of showcasing her musical prowess, Jihyo decides it's for _everyone's_ safety they don't perform anything that needs any use of the drums)

Sana and self-proclaimed musical drummer Momo are splayed on the hardwood floors, stretching their legs out to Mina’s instructions and Olivia Newton-John’s Physical playing in the background. Nayeon is on her own, facing the entire wall of mirrors. She stands and walks over to the gigantic stereo system to lower the volume down when Jihyo makes her way to the center of the room, glaring at the new arrivals to take their places and sit down. 

“We were already able to decide on the song to use for our _singing and dancing_ performance while you three were having fortunes read.” Jihyo announces with passionate annoyance for the three latecomers, it actually looks like she’s reading an inauguration speech as the first female President of South Korea and her only audiences are Jeongyeon, Dahyun, and Chaeyoung. 

“We’ve considered a lot of suggestions”, the leader goes on and talks about choosing between Momo’s proposal to dance to Janet Jackson’s Rhythm Nation just like in the music video (“We won’t be able to find military costumes like that, Momo.”) and Nayeon’s fervent persuading over paying homage to the Queen herself, Madonna, just like the 1990 MTV Awards’ Vogue performance (“We are _not_ dancing in 18th century gowns, Nayeon!”) but neither wins after Sana’s recently discovered information from the girls’ locker room earlier. 

“Apparently, a few members of the cheer squad will also be participating in the talent show, with a group to be led by the one and only Jennie Kim.” 

It’s the first time Chaeyoung has heard of a Jennie Kim but with the way Nayeon visibly rolls her eyes and both Sana and Mina collectively let out an exasperated sigh, the sound of this new-found information doesn’t seem to be good. 

Aunt Jihyo, however, has _never_ lost to anyone (except all the games of Monopoly against Chaeyoung when she was a kid). 

“And I, myself, have also gained information from an insider in the student council—” 

Jeongyeon whispers to Chaeyoung’s ear. “That’s really just her.” 

“—and found out that Principal Park will be one of the head judges.” 

Jeongyeon smirks. “Why am I not surprised?” 

Jihyo ignores the girl and proceeds, “With that in mind, the song options have been filtered and it was Nayeon who ended up deciding our song after winning a game of rock, paper, scissors against Momo.” 

Jihyo walks over to her bag and retrieves a CD case. She treads over to the stereo system and puts the CD in the player. Everyone watches as Nayeon takes the center and everything just unfolds like a student council meeting (much to their dismay). 

Across the room, Chaeyoung watches how her mother carries herself with so much confidence, it’s overawing. Unlike the past days she’s been able to amusingly spend some _quality_ time with Nayeon and Jeongyeon, her mother today looks a little more somber and forbidding. Chaeyoung supposes it’s a superficial act for the group not to catch on to the ongoing _thing_ she has with Jeongyeon–whatever the _thing_ is–but it’s kind of failing when Nayeon’s changed into a loose camisole crop top that rides up a whenever she moves her arms excessively (much to Chaeyoung’s absolute _horror_ because it’s one thing to see your mother in an _inappropriate position_ , it’s another thing to see her in flashy clothes and be able to actually pull it off!) and aunt Sana has such an inquisitive mind and a perfect 20/20 vision. 

“Nayeon, where’d you get that bruise?” 

Chaeyoung feels Jeongyeon freeze beside her. She doesn’t even hide her amusement anymore. _This is going to be fun…_

“Huh?” Nayeon looks down on her stomach, where everybody’s eyes are looking at. “What are you talking—”

And then she sees it. The telltale patch of discoloration on her skin shaped like an almond nut. Her eyes immediately grow wide in absolute horror. _Holy shit._

Across the room, Chaeyoung sees Jeongyeon avoid her mother’s fiery glare, hiding behind Chaeyoung’s shoulder. As if the matter could get worse–or more comical, depends on where to look at–Momo slides closer to Nayeon to take a better inspection at the _bruise._

Nayeon pulls down at her crop top and almost shoves Momo away. “Momo, get back to your place!”

But Momo’s seen it _perfectly._ “Was that a hick—”

“OKAY!” Jeongyeon jumps to the rescue, startling everyone in the room when she stands up. “Nayeon! The song! You were saying you chose the song we’ll all dance to? What is it?”

When no one picks up on the godawful acting, Chaeyoung lets out a defeated sigh. _It was fun while it lasted…_

“A-Ah...yes...the song…” It’s painful to see how awful her mother’s acting is. It’s almost embarrassing. Nayeon doesn’t even hide her unsteady hands tugging down at her crop top nor the way she stammers and suddenly forgets what she was talking about. 

If this is going to be a daily occurence whenever someone in the group notices something _odd_ between them, then count Chaeyoung out. She can’t withstand seeing her mother get so flustered, it’s creepy. The woman had always been a _lion_ to everyone but at the face of this, she’s suddenly a rabbit. 

“Okay…” Nayeon takes a deep breath to compose herself. “So Principal Park is our targeted judge here. We need to appeal to him and for that to happen, we need to know what he likes.”

Mina, who has been silent for the entire time, finally speaks up in contempt. “Are you suggesting we dance to Never Gonna Give You Up, Nayeon?”

Something about the short second they send each other glares tells Chaeyoung her aunt Jihyo showed up right before Nayeon could approach Mina and they still haven’t gotten to the part where they reconcile.

"No, Mina. I wouldn't want to risk our faces dancing to such a thing", Nayeon quips. She turns to face the group and then smiles a little, it's almost unnoticeable. "The song we're going to perform is actually a favorite of mine." 

If Chaeyoung wasn't looking intently at her mother and Jeongyeon, she wouldn't have noticed the tiny shift at Nayeon's face. Her eyes gleam in a way it's meaningful, and her smile grows a little bigger. It actually looks like they're in their own world. 

"I want you back." She says, in such a dreamlike stance, it looks like she's talking to Jeongyeon and Jeongyeon only. Everybody else in the room didn't exist in their world. 

Eventually, Jihyo plays the song in the stereo system, reeling both Nayeon and Jeongyeon back to reality.

She's probably noticed it too, knowing how Jihyo sees through everything, because the leader takes the stage before anything else happens. "Okay, guys", Jihyo claps her hands. "The song we're going to perform is I Want You Back, Jackson 5." 

Everybody stands and Momo takes the center while the song is playing. Legend has it, she can come up with a choreography on the spot. Chaeyoung would love to witness that if only her attention didn't stray towards her aunt Jihyo dragging her mother to the corner of the room, probably to scold her for being obvious and careless. She drags Jeongyeon too. 

(And aunt Mina sees everything.)

***

(Later that night, Chaeyoung decides to sleep over at Dahyun and aunt Jihyo's dorm again. Something about earlier's events tells her Jeongyeon and her mother will be up all night. _Again._ )

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LEAVE YOUR COMMENTS GUYS THANK U FOR READING I REVEALED SO MUCH IN THIS CHAPTER IM MILDLY PANICKING MYSELF
> 
> bet this chapter's gonna start a tsunami of theories again HDHDJDJ 
> 
> #TwiceIn1998


	10. kind but not soft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know, Chaeyoung reminds me of you.” Jeongyeon smiles into the crown of Nayeon’s head, the scent of herbal essences lingering in her nostrils. “She’s kind...but she’s not soft.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nayeon has rhinitis as well as jihyo jkgjkf

(Things continue to change, and the two continue to play their little game.)

***

When Dahyun said she’ll be meeting someone for a  _ very important and secret  _ transaction at such an unconventional time (it’s a few minutes past dorm curfew already), Chaeyoung thought it would be another one of their slightly-dangerous, silly  _ bro-scapade  _ antics. She absolutely did not expect Dahyun’s important business to be  _ this _ . 

“Are you serious right now?” It can’t be helped when Chaeyoung hisses under her breath and is unable to hold back a yelp after a pointy twig pokes through her rib. “Won’t we get in trouble for sneaking out of the dorm?”

Dahyun hushes her abruptly. “Big Boss is already waiting outside of the gate. I’m just getting what’s mine.” 

“We’re literally gonna get in trouble for this.” Chaeyoung swats another branch away from her face. “We could’ve just taken another route like normal kids sneaking out?”

It was Dahyun’s  _ marvelous  _ idea to pass through the garden behind the dorm to avoid getting caught. The “garden” is a narrow pathway of tall bushes and shrubs with pointy twigs. 

“Yeah, because parading down the street is what normal kids do when sneaking out.” Chaeyoung can’t see Dahyun’s face because she’s in front, leading the way, but she can  _ totally _ imagine the golden-haired girl rolling her eyes at her. 

“I’m just saying—”

“Shh! We’re here.” Dahyun finally pushes through the last shrub like she's opening a curtain, and steps out through what looks like a torn-down portion of the dorm’s welded wire gate. They land just outside the dorm and Chaeyoung sees the  _ Big Boss  _ standing a few feet away, clad in pajamas and a hoodie over the head, a plastic bag in hand. 

When they meet halfway, Chaeyoung finds out Big Boss is Hoshi from a few weeks ago, one of the Gag Trio who did the tarot card reading. They don’t get to exchange much of a conversation because it’s already past  _ his _ curfew as well and Dahyun seems rigidly  _ professional _ in this transaction, no matter how childish it really is. 

“Seungkwan’s pogs are there too. Don’t tell him I gave it to you.” 

Dahyun grabs the plastic bag and inspects its contents before grinning satisfyingly and then turning back to the taller guy before them. “A deal’s a deal, Kwon Soonyoung-ssi. I will remain professional, do not fret.” 

Chaeyoung can’t honestly believe what she’s hearing and seeing. She can feel the itchiness in her skin from having to endure all the twigs poking at her and scratching. There’s also a big chance they’re probably going to get in trouble if they don’t get to sneak back inside in time before the back doors are locked.  _ Did I really just risk myself for a pogs transaction?! _

The secret business is done within a few minutes, and Dahyun and Chaeyoung are back to navigating through the shrubs to get inside. Chaeyoung contains the urge to complain about Dahyun’s  _ important transaction _ under the pretense that pogs must really be  _ that  _ big of a deal around here at this time. She simply follows quietly behind the quirky girl, stifling back grunts here and there from all the scratchy twigs and leaves poking at her. 

“Chaeng, we’re going to take a detour, okay? I wanna show you something”, Dahyun whispers, taking a left turn randomly. Chaeyoung is too distracted by the itching on her arm to even take note of Dahyun’s notice. She only realizes their diversion when they end up in a small garden space enclosed by the tall shrubs they just passed through. There’s a big tree in the middle, surrounded by untrimmed grass and bushes. 

“Where are we…?” It’s beautiful, but they’re not exactly in the perfect time for  _ another  _ bro-scapade.

Dahyun stretches her arms out and smiles widely, “Welcome to my hideout,  _ bro. _ ”

In her little time getting to meet and know more of (her _missing aunt_ ) Dahyun, Chaeyoung realizes the bubbly golden-haired girl isn’t as extroverted as people think of her to be. As outgoing as she is, behind the eyes of those who don’t know her, Dahyun is really a private person. In absolutely _no bad way,_ she has so many faces to her, it’s amazing how she navigates and easily controls each and every one of them. Dahyun can be a soft-hearted ball of sunshine this minute, and then become a nerd with an intense pog business running in the next. 

It’s just a shame Chaeyoung never got to know an aunt Dahyun in her present life. 

“Why do you have a hideout?” Chaeyoung looks around from where she’s standing, scratching at her arm. 

Dahyun moves by the tree and, as if the situation couldn’t get any weirder, begins shaking the trunk. Leaves and twigs fall on the two of them, and Chaeyoung tries to get a grip at  _ what the hell is happening _ but her bro stops before she can even ask her to, and bends down to pick something up from the ground. 

Chaeyoung stands behind Dahyun, watching over the girl. “What are you—”

“Can you hand me the thread?” 

A question builds up at Chaeyoung’s mouth but breathes it out into an exasperated sigh instead. There’s no bother in asking Dahyun repeatedly because this is just a Dahyun thing to do anyway. She picks up the white thread yarn in her pocket and hands it over to the blonde. 

“I go here because I like secret spaces just for myself. If I ever go missing, I’d probably just be in a secret garden hiding from everyone”, Dahyun remarks while busying herself with whatever she is doing away from Chaeyoung. “I’d follow Jeongyeon unnie to Yonsei just because of the garden there.”

“Do you love gardens  _ that _ much?” (A part of Chaeyoung takes note of the new information she’s just heard.  _ So Jeongyeon unnie is going to Yonsei?) _

Dahyun grins even Chaeyoung can’t even see the smile on her face. “Yes, because they’re quiet and, you know, it gets tiring being around people, trying to be happy all the time.” 

“Are you tired now?” 

“No. I just figured you were.” 

Chaeyoung frowns a little. She doesn’t get to ask  _ how _ Dahyun figured that out because the next thing that happens is probably the most  _ 90s _ childhood thing Chaeyoung witnessed,  _ ever. _

Dahyun holds it up on her palm, a black insect barely visible in the night, as big as Chaeyoung’s own thumb, tied up with thread yarns around its body but not firmly enough to hold back its wings. The wings that flap when Dahyun blows on them, and the beetle takes flight, hovering to the extent the string lets it, circling over Dahyun’s head like a slightly bigger halo or a miniature cowboy lasso.

“What the…”

“I am Cowgirl Dahyun!”

Chaeyoung can’t even believe it. Her stomach is hurting from laughing. “You’re gonna kill the bug!”

“What? No!” Dahyun lets the beetle fly around her, smiling a shit-eating grin. “I just like seeing them fly and then I set them free too!”

Chaeyoung doesn’t say anything after that, too busy trying to regain any control over the contracting muscles in her insides from all the laughing. She watches through tears as Dahyun jumps to catch the flying beetle with a clasp of her hands and then gently sets it down on the grass again. When she stands up, she has a fallen flower in her hold. 

“This is for you, my bro.” Dahyun has the wholehearted intention of being a romantic, offering the flower to Chaeyoung like how a gentleman would offer his hand, but Chaeyoung’s miniscule hold on her self-preservation gets her stumbling back, away from the flower on Dahyun’s hold, but it’s too late. 

Dahyun’s eyes are filled with absolute worry and hurt. “W-Why? Did you not like the--” 

The sneeze builds up as a sort of comical tickle, like butterflies flapping its wings inside her stomach. It's funny and giggle-inducing until it comes out like a great proclamation, causing a whiplash in Chaeyoung's entire body. 

Her mind feels rattled and she spaces out for a split second, unable to comprehend the sneeze that just shook her entire core. Her heart beats unsteadily afterwards, pounding inside her ribcage as another sneeze builds up again. This time, it's stronger and more rattling, and the force from the sternutation has Chaeyoung stumbling back a little, against the tree trunk beside her. 

"Woah there", Dahyun immediately rushes to her side and holds her up by the shoulders. "Are you okay? I think you just sneezed your heart out there."

“I’m allergic to pollen grains—" 

Chaeyoung could barely give an answer. When the next sneeze builds up, it comes out loud and forceful, and Chaeyoung's ears are ringing and her head feels like it has just been shaken and her brain is left in shambles. Her eyes are blurry from the water welling up and her throat is parched and scratchy, and every attempt at responding or saying something feels like sandpaper grinding at each other.

It takes an incredible amount of energy to force herself over to Dahyun's hold. When another sneeze builds up, Chaeyoung suddenly feels the urge to hit her head on the trunk just to stop it from rattling her entire body again.

In between the watery eyes and the scratchy nose, Chaeyoung sees it: beside her stands a beautiful, spring-denoting flowering tree that Chaeyoung doesn't have half the mind to appreciate, not when it's the very reason why she's in this mess in the first place. 

Spring is majestic, don’t get her wrong. It’s the symbol of common ground between summer and winter, representing beauty after death. Trees are at a full bloom and flowers are everywhere, and with those following an excessive amount of pollen grains in the air flowing peacefully, the very cause of Chaeyoung's  _ awful  _ case of allergies.

_ So that’s why my arms were so scratchy earlier… _

Dahyun hugs closer with an arm thrown around her shoulder, holding her up. “We should head back to get your meds.” 

It takes a whole lot more amount of energy and footing to get past the shrubs and bushes they have to go through in order to get back to the dorm. Yumama doesn’t see them– _ thankfully– _ and Chaeyoung holds back the colossal sneeze with a pinch of her nose when they’re trying to sneak in through the back door. 

There’s only one other problem they had failed to consider. Dahyun and Jihyo’s dorm is on the fourth floor and using the elevator would be too risky given that it’s located just by the lobby. 

_ Fuck. _

“Okay, detour”, Dahyun whispers and drags Chaeyoung to the stairs. 

“Where are we going?” Chaeyoung barely gets that out. Somehow, breathing  _ anything _ in makes her want to sneeze. She holds it back with a pinch of her nose. 

They descend up the staircase as quietly and swiftly as they can, and reach the second floor breathless and panting. Dahyun drags Chaeyoung down the hall and to the door first to the left. 

Chaeyoung covers her mouth after a sneeze erupts, unable to ask Dahyun whose dorm they’re standing in front of, because the door flies open the next immediate second after a few knocks, and out reveals a silk pajama-clad Mina Myoui. 

***

“If Jihyo wasn’t our friend, I would have completely bailed on this”, Jeongyeon huffs, taking a five-minute break from trying to master the English lyrics of the song they’re going to perform. 

It’s a lovely night and Jeongyeon would have been going through team preparations for the upcoming soccer meet and opening night if it weren’t for Jihyo’s competitive ass deciding they should all sing live too for better audience impact. Although the suggestion garnered violent reactions (“Three of us here are Japanese! We can hardly speak Korean and now you want us to sing English!?”), No one in the group had half the heart to oppose and deny Jihyo of her singing fantasies. It’s no surprise that, with the competition drawing near, the group’s leader becomes more and more assertive and ruthless in her inclination to win. 

“Don’t you speak Mandarin?” Nayeon questions from where she’s standing, facing the full-length mirror behind the door, focused on trying to remember the choreography she, Momo, Sana and Mina were able to come up with for the meantime during yesterday’s practice (while Jeongyeon, Chaeyoung, and Dahyun decided chasing Jihyo around and pestering her).

Jeongyeon lies haphazardly on her bed–by  _ her _ , it means Nayeon’s fluffy purple-covered sheets–under a sorry excuse of ridding its arrangement and tidiness. Nayeon has half the mind to tell the girl she needs not to lie because her bed is openly vacant for only one other spacer and that’s Yoo Jeongyeon herself. She won’t risk another episode of boasting from the other girl.

“Mandarin is different from English, Miss self-proclaimed-smarty-pants.” Jeongyeon quips with a roll of her eyes. She’s lying down on her stomach now–after splaying herself on the bed like a starfish earlier–mouthing each syllable in her lines for what feels like the thousandth time. 

“I mean, you were able to learn Mandarin”, Nayeon rewinds the instrumental of the song and proceeds to dance the first parts of the choreography again. “It won’t be that hard trying to learn this one.” 

“Easy for you to say”, Jeongyeon scoffs, putting down the paper. “You’re not studying here with me like what we agreed to do!”

“We agreed to study, yes…” At the sound of Jeongyeon’s immature whining, a mischievous smile tugs at the corners of Nayeon’s lips. She walks over to her bed and sits down by Jeongyeon’s side, far enough for measly space but close for her fingers to be able to dance on Jeongyeon’s back. “But we didn’t agree on  _ what  _ to study, baby.” 

Jeongyeon must really be the more athletic one between them because she’s able to roll off the bed in a swift second, landing on the uninviting floor with an equally unpleasant thud.

“Are you okay??” Nayeon looks over to the other side of the bed, startled at the sudden action. 

Jeongyeon sits up almost immediately, indignant. “I thought we said we’d lessen  _ it _ ?!”

“We did. I was just—”

“You’re not complying to the agreement, Nayeon!” Jeongyeon brushes off the dust particles on her pajama, standing up from the floor and crashing on Chaeyoung’s unoccupied bed instead, the frustration apparent on the way she blows out loudly.

For the sake of the innocent child they share the dorm with, Jeongyeon had come up with a suggestion to tone down the precarious “inappropriate” arrangement between them. Nayeon had a great deal of objections regarding the proposition. This was obviously just Jeongyeon’s way of half-assedly coming to terms with the bigger issue that was obviously present but avoided as a subject for discussion because it was more comfortable to do so. Because  _ that  _ was the Nayeon-Jeongyeon way of dealing with things. But after what had happened–Chaeyoung,  _ the poor kid,  _ walking into them and having to see such an unholy sight–and the new unofficial settlement between them and Jihyo (“Dubu and I agreed to have Chaeyoung sleep over at our place whenever she wants to. I don’t even want to know why anymore.”) Nayeon ended up agreeing for the sake of the younger girl. 

This, however, Nayeon did  _ not _ agree to. 

“Are you...mad?” It comes out more of an upset question than just a point-blank one and Nayeon immediately wants to take it back but it’s too late for that. 

Somewhere at the back of Nayeon’s mind, tucked away underneath a pile of  _ other minor issues, _ for selfish reasons, she knew this conversation was bound to happen, inevitable for the both of them. It was never going to be just magical and filled with love everyday, as if they had their own world and that was all that mattered. Ever since Jihyo had easily figured out whatever was going on between them–that the miracle had happened and Nayeon and Jeongyeon  _ somehow _ managed to reconcile–Jeongyeon thought they were being too obvious and had initialized the mitigation, reserving certain things to the confines of their dorm only.

Nayeon was okay with it all. Jeongyeon was right. Whatever it was going on between them ( _ god forbid  _ they put a name to it _ ) _ was too important for Nayeon to risk it. She’d be willing to go along everything for Jeongyeon’s sake. Unfortunately, the situation didn’t apply for the both of them. 

Jeongyeon isn’t hard to read compared to how everyone assumes. Maybe it’s the way Nayeon’s known her since they were freshmen, was even Jeongyeon’s first friend in the school, or the way Nayeon’s been able to see more than what Jeongyeon had projected for everyone, had seen every nook and cranny, had touched every soft surface, had traced all the birthmarks with the pads of her fingers. Since day one, Nayeon was never just  _ someone _ to Jeongyeon, and Jeongyeon had never been just  _ someone _ as well. 

So when Jeongyeon tries to sit away from Nayeon everytime they’re in the same room together–and that means every group practice–or join Mina whenever the girl asks to–although that doesn’t mean a significant amount of time, there’s still a drastic change to the outward behavior she puts out, Nayeon already knows what’s the issue about even without having put much effort into figuring it out.

_ It’s Mina. _

“Jeong, I’m sorry if I haven’t talked to—”

“It’s not about Mina, Nayeon.” Jeongyeon sits up on Chaeyoung’s bed and focuses on the scribbled figures before her, the English words coming at her like an indecipherable abstract painting. “I hope you know that it’s not always about Mina.” 

“But she’s involved, right?” 

Im Nayeon is a force to reckon with. She had easily destroyed all oversimplified notions against her. She’s a cheerleader but she’s also a student council member (although rarely involved, she admits shamefully); she’s popular but she’s worked hard for it without having to kiss the asses of those on top. She was already a naturally sociable person. She was the beating heart of every group she was in (because Jihyo had always been the brains, the engine). There was no need to befriend anyone. The position of Queen Bitch had naturally come to her and she was never one to refuse the blessings. 

There was a certain indication whenever Nayeon would arrive at school. It wasn’t her fault if the entire population of the hallway decided to part in order to give way for her. It wasn’t also her fault if the cheer squad wanted to go to school at the same time and walk down the hall together, like one big gang ready to fight or launch at however came in the way. The Queen Bitch title built itself like a passing crown. And Nayeon didn’t refuse it simply because she never had an inkling of an idea that she had it in the first place. 

Whenever Jeongyeon was with her–long before their fallout, before Yerin or Mina came in the picture–Nayeon was just  _ her _ and they were just  _ them _ . A weird duo that was composed of two people from the far ends of the spectrum filling each other up like a perfect puzzle. Everything about them was perfect. 

Until Nayeon joined the cheer squad and Jeongyeon decided going on without her was better than having a cheerleader as a friend. Until Nayeon decided going out with the tall, hunky and vulgar guy in the basketball letterman jacket picking on the nerd would be the best kind of revenge. Until everything had fallen apart between them. 

The only reason Nayeon held on to her Queen Bitch crown was because of Jeongyeon. As long as everyone in the school knew Jeongyeon was untouchable, Nayeon would be okay. She’d live through the exhausting act of being tough all the time for the sake of Jeongyeon. 

Everything was okay until Mina happened.

Mina Myoui showed up like a surprise ending move that would change the entire course of the game. Nayeon was absolutely vulnerable and caught off-guard. She had a soft smile and a gracefulness to every move of her body, elegance dripped from the tip of her fingers. She was a kind of understated beauty perhaps because she was so disarmingly aware of her charm and appeal.

Mina Myoui waltzed into Nayeon and Jeongyeon’s lives like a beautiful spring day amidst the harsh winters that enveloped their souls. And Nayeon would  _ never  _ admit it. If she met Mina Myoui at a different time, under a different circumstance, she would have actually liked her. 

“Look, Jeong…" Nayeon adjusts herself on her bed, back turned towards the other girl in the room. Nayeon looks down on her hands, fidgeting with them. "I'm really sorry if Mina hates my guts. I try to talk to her, I do! But whenever I see her I also just...hate her more?"

There's a moment of silence there, and even though Nayeon is dressed up in an oversized Voltes V shirt and some sweats underneath, she can feel Jeongyeon's gaze burning holes at her back. It's as if she's bare naked in front of the girl, left to nothing but her heart out on her sleeve. 

"What makes you assume Mina hates you?"

There’s a change in the tone Jeongyeon uses. It’s relatively different from the one earlier, softer and warmer this time, and when the space behind Nayeon dips a little, she feels herself caving in for the presence of the girl. 

There’s something strange between their dynamic, something barely perceptible. Nayeon can list a thousand of reasons why she’s the total opposite of Yoo Jeongyeon, and a hundred more reasons why Jeongyeon is probably better off without her. But when Jeongyeon is around and her natural instinct is to lessen any distance between them, feel the touch of the girl’s warmth, or just hear her voice, she realizes easily no matter how many reasons she has to give up, a life without Jeongyeon is the last place Nayeon would want to be at. 

Jeongyeon doesn’t help herself when she treads back to Nayeon’s bed and takes a seat on the space beside the girl. Nayeon’s body moves on its own and finds its place right at Jeongyeon’s side, head resting on the soccer captain’s broad shoulders and hands searching for the warmth from Jeongyeon’s own. 

“At this point, it’s harder  _ not _ to assume.” Nayeon adds a halfhearted chuckle at the end, just for the sake of alleviating the tension in the room’s atmosphere. “She made most of the choreography for the first parts of the performance and it is  _ fucking _ hard, let me tell you that. I think she did it out of spite for me.” 

Jeongyeon smiles, watching as Nayeon fixes herself on playing with their intertwined fingers. “I don’t think she’d do that, Nabongs. Mina is capable of a lot of things but hating someone isn’t one of them.”

Nayeon ignores the weight on her chest that only continues to grow heavy with every opportunity Jeongyeon takes at defending Mina. “My entire body hurts, Jeong. Do you smell the Vicks VapoRub right now?” 

“Was that  _ you _ ?” And just like, the entire atmosphere in the room shifts into a lighter, easier one. 

Jeongyeon briefly moves away to sniff Nayeon. She finds the piquant whiff of the familiar menthol petrolatum-based gel clinging on the shoulder portion of Nayeon’s shirt. “I thought that was just Momo showering Vicks again!”

“I didn’t want to complain because that’d only make the situation with you worse so I just went on with it.” Nayeon shrugs. With the hiatus from the cheerleading, her body had totally collapsed and found itself absolutely unconditioned after every attempt to dance continuously. Unlike the three other girls choreographing with her, she was the least physically-conditioned given how Sana and Mina still trained with the cheer squad and Momo with the soccer team. 

“Yeah?” Jeongyeon wonders if the girl before her is seriously the team captain of a topnotch, lionized cheerleading team. Any athlete should know the rudiments of chiropractic and/or physical therapy. “I get that using Vicks is the traditional mom in you, but seriously? This is an ointment for babies and ravers high on drugs!” 

Nayeon huffs indignantly, rolling her eyes at the matter-of-fact way of Jeongyeon’s speaking (something she weirdly finds a turn-on at the same time). “Well do you have a better remedy, Miss Know-it-all?”

“As a matter of fact, I do”, Jeongyeon smiles smugly. When she leaves Nayeon’s side, the latter is forced to contain the urge to pull her back in for the cringeworthy reason that her presence alone is enough of a cure for every little pain. 

Nayeon adjusts herself on the bed and ends up sitting with her legs criss-crossed, Indian style, watching as Jeongyeon walks over to her side of the room, towards the drawers, pulling out a familiar-looking drawstring bag with an edited picture of Sana’s face printed right on the middle, a giveaway from her congratulatory party for getting into the cheer squad (they’re  _ that _ rich). 

Jeongyeon retrieves a roll of skin-colored kinesio tape. “I use this whenever I have sore muscles after training. It can help your shoulders too.” She walks over to the bed and climbs up behind Nayeon, sitting on her knees. 

When she touches a sore part on Nayeon’s right shoulder, the cheer captain can’t help but let out an embarrassing moan. Jeongyeon freezes at massaging. 

“What? Did that get you turned on or something?” Nayeon doesn’t look back at her but from the menacingly smug tone, it’s clearly evident the girl is sporting a shit-eating grin right now. Jeongyeon only rolls her eyes and resumes her chiropractic, teaching muscle points and ligament misalignments that can result in possible disorders that affect the nerves, muscles, and organs. 

Nayeon doesn’t feel the slightest bit annoyed at the upsurge of medical information she doesn’t even honestly have an inkling of desire to know. If Jeongyeon was any other person, she would have gladly left then and there. The last kind of people she wants to be with are windbags. But Jeongyeon, as much as personally irrelevant her sudden wise words are, Nayeon doesn’t have the want in her to stop the girl from blabbering. 

If any, Jeongyeon is the only person in the world whom Nayeon actually wants to shut up for and just listen to endlessly. 

“Are you still planning on taking physical therapy in Yonsei?” Nayeon asks after Jeongyeon finishes with her right shoulder, kinesio tape secured around her shoulder muscle. When Jeongyeon fails to reply within a conversational time space, Nayeon feels the weight on her chest grow heavy. 

They had always talked about going to university when they were still the best of friends, inseparable by the hip; however, ever since they fought, Nayeon was the only one who ended up looking steadfast into the future. She was certain of her university (Either Seoul National or Korea University, whichever offers a better opportunity for her law career); she had taken all the necessary measures to make sure her college applications were as decorated as possible (Student Council, Cheer Squad, Drama club, Physics club–name it, Nayeon  _ probably  _ did it there). Her unwavering certainty that she’d work to have a better, brighter future as a successful lawyer was always the subject of her arguments against Jeongyeon whenever the latter slacked around. 

But between the two of them, Nayeon had always known it was Jeongyeon whose future looked happier and more fulfilling. Jeongyeon, just as Nayeon remembered  _ perfectly,  _ was modestly aiming for a scholarship at Yonsei, home to the arguably better university between the Yonsei University-Korea University rivalry (still subject for debate). 

“I...I’m sorry if that startled you. I just remembered how you wanted that athletic scholarship from Yonsei…” 

“No, it’s okay”, Jeongyeon lets out a halfhearted chuckle. Thank goodness they’re not facing each other. Hiding the awkwardness would be way harder if that was the case. “ I’m glad you still remember that. Are you still taking a liking to Law School after this?” 

Nayeon nods. “Yes, but I don’t think I have any interest in taking Political Sciences as my major.” 

“There’s no major in cheerleading, Nayeon.” 

“I know that, dumbo”, Nayeon laughs and reaches her arm behind her to pinch the girl. Jeongyeon stumbles back with a yelp, leaving the kinesio tape dangling around Nayeon’s shoulder. 

“Ya!”

“ _ Ya _ ?” Nayeon crawls up her bed, glaring at Jeongyeon with narrowing eyes. “Are you disrespecting me now, pleb?” 

“You’re literally just a few months older, you know. I can call you—aah!”

But her words are cut short by her own defeat, yelping the moment Nayeon decides real maturely the proper imposition of a penalty comes in the form of tickling. Absolute laughter-inducing, tear-jerking, body-flailing type of tickling. 

“Im Nayeon...HAHAHA..cut...HAHA...it out!” 

“I’m not going to until you apologize!” 

“HAHAHA! What am I...HAHAHA...going to...HAHAHAHA...apologize for...YA!” 

Jeongyeon’s voice takes a different tone and executes a pained, sharp cry. Nayeon stops and freezes halfway, just above the soccer captain’s pajama-clad shin. “W-What...are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

But the other girl only recoils in pain, rubbing at the front of the leg below the knee. Jeongyeon lifts up her pajama and reveals an area of discoloration on her skin, a bruise the size of a fat thumb. Nayeon gasps in horror. 

“Where did you get that?!” 

Jeongyeon answers nonchalantly amidst the throbbing pain of the bruise, “It was just a game. I was helping out Momo with training the newbies in the team earlier. A kid accidentally kicked the ball too hard.” 

Jihyo had rescheduled the practice earlier to some other day because of a meeting that required her urgent attendance (despite her temporary hiatus in the student council). The decision, amidst the approaching school festival performance, proved to be for the best since no one could else attend the practice anyways. Other than the three  _ jobless  _ members of the group–Nayeon, Jeongyeon, and Chaeyoung–everybody else had something to do and just couldn't get out of their personal commitments. To entertain herself, Jeongyeon had opted to help with the training and. Nayeon attended matters regarding the cheer squad alongside Sana. Chaeyoung... _ Chaeyoung probably was attached to Dahyun’s hip the entire time. _ (They deemed themselves the “BFF” of each other.  _ Bro For Life. _ )

“Give me the name of the kid, Jeong.” 

“I won’t.” When the pain subsides, Jeongyeon pulls down her pajama and stretches out both of her legs, lying down comfortably on Nayeon’s bed, arms folded behind her head. “Not when you sound like you’re ready to murder an innocent minor.” 

“I’m just going to  _ talk _ to this kid…”

“You’re literally lying through your teeth right now, babe.” Although a part of her feels awfully concerned about the extent Nayeon’s willing to go to for the sake of a minor injury, a bigger portion just feels relieved when Nayeon doesn’t sulk and throws a tantrum at her behest. She simply languidly obliges–and lets out a defeated grumble–when Jeongyeon pulls at her arm (carefully, of course. The shoulders are still suffering) and fixes the undone kinesio tape before guiding her down on the bed completely, comfortably at her side. 

Nayeon presses herself against Jeongyeon, as if searching for warmth in a chill mid-May night. The tape holding her shoulder firmly makes it hard for Nayeon to move her arm but she still does it anyway. She searches for Jeongyeon’s hand and holds it with her own while lying still over the girl’s heart, listening to its cadence beating like it’s the most beautiful song ever to be played. 

“Sana talked about her party earlier. The one she annually holds at her place every pre-competition season.” 

“You mean the one I  _ annually _ avoid attending?” Jeongyeon responds with unrequited humor. Nayeon squeezes her hand a little too tighter. “I mean...” Jeongyeon is left praying for her dear life. “What about the party?” 

“She’s having it a little earlier now because of the talent show; wants it to become a celebration for the group as well.” Nayeon traces along the lines on Jeongyeon’s palm. “That means you’re actually  _ required _ to come now.” 

Jeongyeon laughs, “Good joke.” 

“I’m serious, Jeong.” Nayeon pulls at Jeongyeon’s left arm to sit up on the bed, facing Jeongyeon with a somber look. “Sana’s going to be really upset if you don’t come.” 

The grave expression on Nayeon’s face draws a worrying tug at Jeongyeon’s insides, like a knife in the gut slowly twisted. It’s not that she didn’t like Sana or her parties–that is the  _ last _ thing she’d reason with–it’s just that she didn’t favor the crowded parties in general. There was always something about parties she didn't like. Bodies grinding, the lack of social distance, the loud music, the wild hormonal teenagers,  _ everything _ . Something  _ always _ went wrong at parties. 

Jeongyeon just didn’t like risking herself for it. 

“You have to go, Jeong. Come with me.” Nayeon sees the visible paling of the girl probably running through all kinds of worst-case-scenarios inside her head. She grabs Jeongyeon’s other hand and reels her back to reality. The one with them simply on her bed, next to each other, in their own small world. 

“You know that’s not possible, right?” Jeongyeon slides backwards to the bed’s headboard, sitting up and leaning against it. “The cheer squad is going to be there and the soccer team too. We can’t go together.” 

Nayeon understands the intention behind Jeongyeon’s words. With their respective teams attending the party and them being team captain, their leader duties come first before their personal affairs, and their obligations to the team include making sure everyone comes home safe and no one dies, and the team’s name doesn’t get dragged to dirt by any irresponsible behavior. But a part of Nayeon, the one so recklessly consumed by her a dark cloud of overthinking, defines everything as the world giving her a freshly served bowl of karma. “ _ We can go together”  _ suddenly feels like “ _ We can’t be seen with each other.” _

_ This is what it feels like to be afraid of the world’s eyes first before anything else.  _

“I’ll still look for you though, even if you want me or not.” Nayeon doesn’t want to be afraid anymore. “So come, please?” 

“I’m not sure, Nayeon…”

“Whyyy?” Nayeon whines. 

Jeongyeon looks down on the sheet of paper in her hand. She avoids Nayeon’s eyes. “Because I don't want them to see you with me. They’ll say mean things about you.” 

“Like I care—”

“And the group too.” Jeongyeon looks up and sees the way Nayeon steadies for a moment there, as if finally realizing what she had wanted to say but wasn’t able to, all this time. “Aside from us four, it’s Mina, Dahyun, and Chaeyoung’s first times. Let’s not ruin it for them?” 

“But...but why would us being together ruin it for them?” It’s like solving a puzzle but the last pieces just don’t match. “We’re just going to be there together. No one would probably—”

“Nayeon, you have a boyfriend.” 

The stock Nayeon reaction to that would be an unperturbed “ _ And??” _ or a “ _ So what??” _ because really, the constant worry over the world’s eyes has done nothing but ruin opportunities for genuine happiness and expand the  _ what ifs _ in her life. Letting the perception of other people dictate her decisions has only drowned her in a bottomless chasm of regrets. Nayeon doesn’t have the energy to care about what other people would say about her behind her back. But when she sees the solemn look in Jeongyeon’s eyes, the way she tries to keep a neutral expression but fails when her brows furrow and the corners of her lips tug down in a split second’s time frame, Nayeon sees the feeling of worry, nervousness, of unease. Yoo Jeongyeon is her antithesis. 

“Like you’d call Woo Dohwan a boyfriend…” is what she says in the end, with absolute indifference. 

Jeongyeon only lets out a small chuckle and pulls Nayeon back into the bed with her, wrapping one arm around the girl’s shoulders and hugging her closer. “I’ll go. Just because I know someone needs a babysitter there.” 

Nayeon holds her hand and intertwines their fingers together again.. “I don’t need a babysitter—”

“I meant Chaeyoung.” Jeongyeon rolls her eyes playfully. “She might get eaten by the crowd alive. I don’t want her hanging out with trouble.” 

“A.k.a. the cheer squad?” 

“A.k.a. the ballistic jocks and Jackson’s drug crew.” 

Nayeon laughs at that, remembering just how often Jackson Wang brings his secret stash of party drugs despite Sana’s constant reprimanding. “I’ll make sure to keep an eye on her too, don’t worry.” 

Nayeon briefly wonders if Jeongyeon feels it too. The overwhelming sensation to protect the kid from the world. To preserve her innocence and the brightness inside of her from ever getting tainted by anyone.

“You know, Chaeyoung reminds me of you.” Jeongyeon smiles into the crown of Nayeon’s head, the scent of herbal essences lingering in her nostrils. “She’s kind...but she’s not soft.” 

“Really?” Nayeon is amused and surprised. She remembers the younger girl and all she sees is how similar she is with the girl beside her. “She reminds me of you, though.” 

“How come?” 

“Well, she’s really soft-spoken but she knows what she’s saying. From the small time we’ve gotten to know her, I’ve seen her fearless and unapologetic. Much like you.” 

The smile doesn’t leave Jeongyeon’s lips. It just escalates into a lighthearted chuckle. “We talk as if we’re her parents.” 

“I’d be happy to be a stand-up mom or something. Like an older sister she never had.” Nayeon taps lightly on the back of Jeongyeon’s hand with her fingers, a mannerism she’s developed that helps her stay on track. 

“Oooh, is the Queen Bitch turning soft now?” Jeongyeon chaffs, much to Nayeon’s chagrin. 

“For your information, I’m not as bad as everyone portrays me to be.” 

“Tell that to all the aspiring kids you turned down at the tryouts.”

“Being nice doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have standards”, Nayeon shrugs. “And besides, that’s not the point. I...I don’t think I should be telling you this but Chaeyoung, she doesn’t have parents. I kind of see myself in her? If you get that?”

Jeongyeon feels her insides churn.  _ Oh.  _ “I...I didn’t know that, I’m sorry. And yes, I understand. You empathize with her.” 

“Yeah. I don’t want her to feel the same way I did growing up.” Although Nayeon had parents, it was just a short-lived affair with them. They moved away and left her for her callous grandmother to raise. It was the root of all evils inside Nayeon. The pain of being left alone.  _ If they did it before, how can anyone not do it now? _

Jeongyeon hugs Nayeon closer and presses a soft kiss on her head. “If it’s any consolation, she has seven older sisters now, Nayeon. We’re like the Brady bunch but without parents.” 

Nayeon doesn’t hold back her laugh anymore. “Way to make it sound  _ so _ enjoyable...” The smile on her face is wiped away when she looks up and is reeled into the soft hazel eyes looking down on her.

These are the moments that prove Nayeon over and over again how unsystematic and unconventional their dynamic is. They go from somber looks and a fragile discussion, to dreamy smiles and lighthearted talks. Nothing is ever  _ just normal _ with Jeongyeon. That’s why she’s in love with her. 

“Can I kiss you, Jeongyeon?”

The smile on the girl’s lips is enough of an answer for Nayeon to close the distance between them. She can feel Jeongyeon’s breath hitch when their lips meet, into a spiralling kiss that’s enough to entrance the both of them.

Jeongyeon’s lips taste like roll-on lip gloss and lingering bubble gum. It’s toxicating. 

To be able to forever stay in their own world, just the two of them and nothing else, happy and together and in love, would be Im Nayeon’s one and only wish. Unfortunately, the moment she decides that, the world is already reeling her back into reality. Jeongyeon must  _ really  _ be the athletic one between them because she’s able to spring out of Nayeon’s bed and on to Chaeyoung’s, the second the soft obtrusive knocks pound door, barreling completely into Nayeon’s fantasy world.

When it flies open, it reveals the last person that should be seeing Nayeon and Jeongyeon so flushed and disgruntled together. 

“Oh...um…" Mina stammers, barely sparing the two a look. "Chaeyoung is asking for some meds? She's...she's having an allergy attack…" 

Really, there’s no need for such a violent reaction but it doesn’t even take a few seconds before Jeongyeon is up on her feet, making a beeline for the door right past Mina Nayeon knows it's just Jeongyeon's way of getting out of the awkward situation. It's a good tactic, really, and Nayeon is ready to applaud her at that, if only she wasn't left handling the overwhelming presence of Mina by herself.

“Uh…” 

Nayeon has half the urge to ask Mina why she’s still standing by the door, but then Mina beats her to it, in rather awkward, ambiguous, and subdued concern, “Medications...Chaeyoung asked for meds…?”

“O-Oh!” Nayeon gets out of her bed and goes over to Chaeyoung’s side, checking underneath her bed for the boxes of her belongings. Other than an equal ratio of a ruffled mess and neatly-folded clothes, she finds none of what they’re both looking for. 

Mina stands by the door, reading the situation perfectly. “She doesn’t have meds?”

“I don’t think so…?” 

“I’ll go tell her then…"

“Wait!” Nayeon exclaims, startling Mina halfway as she rounds the bed and goes to her side of the room, pulling out a plastic pill organizer from her drawer. “I have antihistamines that might be able to help.” 

“You have allergic rhinitis too?” 

Nayen nods silently. “Hereditary shit.”

Mina spares a barely-audible giggle there but it’s enough to get Nayeon caught off-guard, standing across Mina by the door, blinking silently in an unsettled haze. 

“Mina...um…” The unsettled haze carries Nayeon away, like a plastic slipper caught by the waves, pulling it to the expanse of salt water. 

Mina can  _ definitely _ sense the awkward tension. “Uh...Chaeyoung...she...might need the meds—”

_ Come on, Nayeon, just get it out. _

“Mina!” Nayeon didn’t need to exclaim it, didn’t need to startle Mina by calling out her name louder than necessary, but she does, and it gets the girl’s attention in a rather brusque way. “I...I’m sorry...I shouldn’t have shouted…”

Mina only watches her with a frown.

Nayeon takes a big inhale and for once, lets her guard down. “ I’m sorry if you hate me.” 

There’s that irrevocable silence lingering between them, heavy and confusing, and Nayeon wishes she could take back what she said and probably add more context, perhaps make it sound a little less unceremonious and more sincere, like a genuine apology that Mina deserves after all this time. But it happens, and it’s what Mina gets, and Nayeon feels sincerely ashamed of herself.

“Excuse me?”

“I...I’m sorry that came out...too blunt...I just—" Nayeon takes a deep breath to compose the bundle of nerves sitting in the pit of her stomach. “I’m not good at apologizing. I’m sorry.” 

“For someone who says they’re not good at apologizing, you tend to say sorry a lot.” 

There’s something in Mina’s tone and demeanor that Nayeon just can’t understand. There’s rigid humor in her tone, but her face doesn’t tell anything close to amusement. 

Nayeon decides to play safe. “I just really wanted to apologize to you. For everything I did.” 

A heavy second passes by before Mina shifts her weight on one leg and leans by the doorframe. “Are you doing this because you want to or because you have to?”

It’s a natural law by now. Im Nayeon is a total asshole when she’s not deeply in love with Yoo Jeongyeon. 

“Both.” But it’s better to be painfully honest than to lie her way to Mina’s forgiveness. 

The silence that follows is petrifying. Mina looks at Nayeon like the girl is an abstract painting. It would have been amusing for Nayeon because for her, it was Mina who had always been the one not easy to analyze or understand.

“Okay.” 

“What...what do you mean  _ okay _ ?”

“I’m not a person who holds grudges, Nayeon”, Mina shrugs. “And I never hated you.” 

This is what Nayeon meant by complex. “You just didn’t like me?”

“Was I supposed to like the person who ruined my first few months in school?”

_ Wow. She’s tough.  _ “Mina, again, I’m really sorry for—”

“Yes, I get it. It’s okay. I’ve forgiven you long before you thought of apologizing. We should move on from that.” Mina sighs, turns on her heel and walks out to the hall, door open for Nayeon. 

There’s something unsettling about the reconciliation–if you can even call it that. What others would deem a necessary guilt that comes with the closure, Nayeon can’t quite fathom why the guilt attaching to her only worsens. It’s as if Mina means what she says, but wants to say something else. 

She follows the timid girl out to the hall. “Mina…” 

There must really be something bothering the girl because at Nayeon’s mere mention of her name again, Mina stops and swivels around to face Nayeon, with an expression that’s akin to exasperation. “Look, Nayeon, Chaeyoung needs the antihistamines that you have, so we should just get going and give it to her.”

“It’s Jeongyeon.” 

“Yes, I know there’s something going on between you two,” Another sigh leaves Mina’s lips. She runs a hand through her hair with a huff. “You don’t have to treat me like I’m a fragile doll that’ll get in the way of your romance.” 

“But you like Jeongyeon…”

“And I’m not going to do anything about it, okay?” There’s sincerity laced in Mina’s tone despite the terror. Nayeon feels even more ashamed of herself. “Jeongyeon only knows how to love one person and that’s you. We can’t really change the past now, can we?” 

***

The overdone reactions are too much for something as trivial as Chaeyoung’s allergy attack to pollen grains. Dahyun’s panicking drives her to her dorm, in dire need of Jihyo’s backup, and Mina volunteers to get the medications necessary. Ultimately, they leave the  _ patient _ alone. 

Although the sneezing doesn’t stabilize itself without the medication, Chaeyoung spends her time indulging her curiosity over her aunt Mina’s dorm when she’s not too busy trying to turn her brain into a pile of mush, by taking a good look around from where she’s sitting on Mina’s bed.

The dorm is relatively bigger than both Dahyun and Jihyo’s, and Nayeon and Jeongyeon’, perhaps the standard size. The bed sits at the far corner next to the window, covered in white sheets with tiny ballerina prints. Chaeyoung isn’t sure what she initially expected from Mina’s dorm but it’s  _ definitely _ not something standard or mediocre. Something about the way Mina carried herself amidst the modesty always showed the gracefulness and eloquence of someone who was born into opulence. 

Mina’s dorm isn’t short of simplicity mixed with subtle fixtures of wealth. The interior space itself is far from standard. Unlike the other dorms, judging from the presence of one single bed, Mina doesn’t share her dorm with anyone. She’s got the biggest dorm and she isn’t even living with anybody else.

There’s a study desk by the adjacent wall, with a built-in bookshelf filled with encyclopedias and other books Chaeyoung can’t read with the English titles. A mint green bean bag chair sits beside the desk and a giant ass computer sits on top of the study table, flashing a Windows ‘98 standard wallpaper. 

Nothing’s relatively out of place in Mina’s dorm, just like how Chaeyoung would expect from someone as collected as her aunt. She’s just about to let out a colossal sneeze again when something piques at her attention.A dangling chain of colored papers hanging by the edge of the study desk. 

Chaeyoung walks over to it when her eyesight fails to give her a clearer picture. Pieces of cut-out paper adorn the desk alongside a pair of scissors left haphazardly unattended, a contrast to the overall neatness of the place. An unfastened wreath is what she gets most curioused of, made with assorted construction paper and—

“Chaeyoung! Bro!” 

Chaeyoung is knocked out of her breath before she can even compose her thoughts. Dahyun strangles her into a hug, as if they haven’t seen each other for  _ years.  _ Dahyun only pulls back when Chaeyoung is struggling for air. 

“Jihyo unnie and the rest of the gang are on their way to the rescue!” 

“What? It’s just an allergic—achoo!” Chaeyoung is disgruntled for a few seconds, unable to finish her sentence. Dahyun only looks at her with a worried expression, patting the slightly-smaller girl’s head like an owner would to a good pet dog. 

“What are you doing here, by the way? You should be sitting down.” 

“I was just looking at—achoo!” Chaeyoung can’t even finish her sentence because of another sneeze building up. She points to the artwork on her aunt Mina’s desk before looking away and letting out another colossal sneeze. 

Dahyun follows the trajectory of Chaeyoung’s pointing, landing on a beautifully-made unhooked wreath. “Oh! It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” She smiles widely and reaches for the garland. “Mina unnie  _ loves _ making these. She gave me one before.” 

“She makes these?” Chaeyoung feels something inside of her, a churning of an unkind sensation. She just can’t point out where it’s coming from. 

Dahyun nods. “She learned how to make them from someone for an art project.” She holds up the colorful wreath. “I don’t know what it was but ever since then, she just fell in love making garlands out of paper flowers.” 

***

_ (A few days after Chaeyoung’s 9th birthday, she had to perform a dance for a school program. _

_ All the other kids had their parents giving them flowers after, while neither her aunt nor her mother showed up.  _

_ It was okay. A nice pretty stranger gave Chaeyoung beautiful flowers instead.) _

  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a lot of foreshadowing and clues :) please don't forget to leave comments or anything! i sincerely appreciate your comments and theories and kind words! i read them all!!


	11. the closest to heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeongyeon understands what Dahyun’s words mean. She spares a look at the dance room and everyone around them. Nayeon had now somehow managed to pull Mina into a conversation albeit done with Momo’s help, and Sana is going through the choreography with Jihyo animatedly, laughing over tiny mistakes. It makes me feel happy. It does look like heaven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like people might get uninterested if i don't post as soon as i can so i'm dropping part 1 now !! part 2 will follow !!

This time around, the clouds are crying and it’s a bad case of the colds. 

There’s a substantially heavier weight whenever Chaeyoung moves a miniscule inch of her body or spares an inkling of an effort in doing just about anything relatively idiot-proof; Stretching her arms out or walking for more than a minute felt like forcing her limbs out of their joints, constructing a logical response to any of the conversational attempts from her aunts was like thinking of an answer to the hardest mathematical equation known to man. 

Everything required a shitload of energy lately and it felt like the universe was doing it on purpose to sabotage her. A few days ago, she had another allergy attack because the winds blew too strong and she had no superhuman abilities to hold mother nature in place and prevent the leaves and flowers from flying everywhere. Now it's a newfound bad case of colds, and Chaeyoung doesn't know when or how had her immune system get so _fucking_ weak when in the present, she couldn’t even _force_ herself a headache to get out of anything even if her life depended on it. 

Today, in spite of her health’s downward spiral, Chaeyoung tries her best to make sure no one picks up on her body’s resistance. Even if everything takes a tremendous amount of effort to _not_ groan or throw a complaint, and moving her arms for the first part of the choreography is like lifting the heaviest weights in gym, Chaeyoung makes sure to hide what feels like her body’s gradual deterioration for the sake of the last practice before Sana’s party tomorrow night. 

The keyword is _tries_ , however, and Chaeyoung’s self-proclaimed Oscar-worthy performance is somehow easily bulldozed by none other than her _mother_ , who is the first to notice the younger girl’s sluggish movements in the practice. 

"Momo, stop the music", Nayeon's voice echoes through the spacious ballroom like Simon Cowell asking the staff to stop the music in an audition, laced with enough authority to get Momo rushing to the side of the room over to the stereo system.

Everyone is breathless and eager to finish even when they're just thirty seconds into the dance. Nayeon rarely stops the practice for anything besides pinpointing the errors and mistiming of the members. When they stop this time, the blame is automatically thrown around the room ( Jihyo shamelessly calls out Jeongyeon for mistiming the feet movements, "Move your two left feet, Yoo!" and Jeongyeon throws her snark over at Dahyun, "Stop exaggerating the steps!") but Nayeon doesn't criticize either of the two _obvious_ mishaps and instead, pays attention to the uncertain gaze she meets through the reflection of the mirror in front, of shy, droopy eyes trying to hide underneath the grey oversized hood of the zipped-up jacket. 

When her mother's gaze lasts for a second longer than necessary, the first thing Chaeyoung does is pray _mother instincts_ don't apply in time travelling, and the second she does is avert her eyes away, _anywhere_ far from Nayeon's scrutinizing ones.

The universe must really not be in favor of her right now because when the snot attempts to run out of her nose like a dam, in such perfect timing, Chaeyoung has no choice but to draw it back uncharacteristically, the sniffing sound to echoing around the room like a thunderous bolt. In her attempt _not_ to draw attention, it's exactly what happens and now it’s not just Nayeon's eyes looking at her.

"Are you sick?" Mina asks over from the other side of the dance positions, strands of hair sticking on her face because of the beads of sweat trickling down. She still manages to look graceful and collected as ever though. There’s a trace of concern somewhere in the tone, Chaeyoung knows even if it doesn’t seem like it. She isn't able to answer her properly though, because someone else’s palm is suddenly jammed on her forehead, in a not-so-gentle way of checking her temperature.

“It’s just a cold, unnie,” She manages croaks out in defeat, looking up at Jeongyeon and stubbornly pushing the hand away from her forehead. “I’m really okay...” 

“But you’re burning up!” 

Jihyo manages to walk over to them now and check the temperature again from Chaeyoung’s forehead. When she confirms the unusual heat radiating from the younger girl’s skin, the entire group looks like they’re on the verge of an emergency--with the exception of calm and collected Mina of course. 

“Why don’t we cut the practice early?” Nayeon suggests, much to Chaeyoung’s absolute horror because that’s _exactly_ what she’s been trying so hard to stop from happening, considering how the talent show is a few weeks away from now and they haven’t even polished the entire performance yet.

It drives her to a completely aggressive, “DON’T!”

It’s loud enough to silence the entire room and strong enough for Chaeyoung to prefer the hardwood flooring more than standing on her own two feet. Jeongyeon catches her before she falls completely. Nayeon runs over quickly. 

“Okay, kiddo, we’re going to get you back to the dorm”, Jeongyeon _announces_ , wrapping Chaeyoung’s arm around her shoulders and using her other arm to drape around the younger girl’s waist. Chaeyoung tries to resist, but her exerted effort into shouting is already almost the entire energy allocated for the day. She’s literally _drained._

Nayeon looks over to them, brows dipping in concern. She doesn’t say anything but Jeongyeon understands it. She wants to help. 

“It’s okay, I got her.” She reassures. “You guys can continue the practice. We’ll walk back to the dorm.” 

Chaeyoung shakes her head with the little vitality she has left. It isn’t much, given how no one even notices her movements apart from Jeongyeon, who only understood because they were attached by the shoulders and she could literally _feel_ the head movements.

“Unnies can continue. _I’ll_ go back to the dorm.” 

“You can’t even stand up properly”, Jeongyeon huffs. Chaeyoung doesn’t care about that. The practice should continue nevertheless. “I can. Shouting was just too much.” 

It looks like she’s not convincing anyone soon however, even when she tries to push Jeongyeon off and stand on her own, holding back the urge to just fall on the floor and curl up like a little baby. The odds only work in her favor when Jihyo comes up with a compromise. 

“Okay, fine. You head back to the dorms and rest, okay? We’ll cut the practice short and end in about”, she checks the time in her flip phone. “Fifteen minutes? We’ll get you some ginseng soup if we find any on our way back. Would that be okay with everyone?”

Everyone but Jeongyeon and Nayeon seem fine with it, hesitating with their eyes and their hearts out on their sleeves. Eventually, the two relent just because Chaeyoung forces them to. (“Really, I’m fine. I’ll buy some cold medicine when I see a drugstore.”)

Sana walks over to offer Chaeyoung one of her floral-printed towels but the younger girl really doesn’t want to spread her germs and pay for laundry too. She declines the offer and only covers her nose with the sleeve of her jacket. 

“Make sure you get better by tomorrow, Chaeyoungie.” It doesn’t save her from getting her hair ruffled, however. Aunt Sana throws her the most beautiful, adoring smile ever. “I don’t think you’ll want to miss out on my party.” 

“I won’t, unnie.” Chaeyoung loves the affection but pretends she’s too cool for it. Everyone in the group treats her like a baby, it’s endearing if not characteristic given how it’s _exactly_ how they treated her back in the present too. _Treated, past tense._

Chaeyoung grabs her things–a drawstring bag from Jeongyeon containing an empty plastic bottle of water, a wallet with spare coins magically brought along with her things, and spare keys to the dorm–and bids the group farewell with a raspy goodbye. Jeongyeon walks her out, under the pretense of making sure she doesn’t _fall_ down the stairs, and Nayeon, naturally, comes along. They walk her up to the exit of the building.

It’s almost comical how Chaeyoung feels at home now more than ever. It’s as if her body has somehow managed to find comfort in unfamiliar territory, in a time she doesn’t belong in, with the people who have left her life once. It feels more at home than her familiarity, her normalcy, her actual timeline, her actual life. This side of her mother is like being _home_ again, like what being genuinely happy feels like. This tenderhearted version, the one that’s _so_ discreetly unfair to everybody else (because it’s clearly _obvious_ how Jeongyeon’s error count is at least a double of Dahyun’s and yet Nayeon–the Gordon Ramsey of dancing–nitpicks on the golden-haired girl’s mistiming more than Jeongyeon’s ‘mis-dancing’). 

Chaeyoung is surrounded by _her_ family, even if _they_ don’t know that. Even if they’re not aware of who they are–or who they will be–to her.

When they reach the doors of the main building, the one nearer to the path that leads to the dorm building, Nayeon and Jeongyeon bid their roommate a safe walk back. 

“I have vicks in a bag somewhere in my drawer. You can use that. Have it if you need more”, Jeongyeon says, in a tone bordering frantic and solemn concern, much like the tone a mother would use to her child going away for college. 

All Chaeyoung does is nod while sniffing behind the sleeve of her jacket. She looks over to Nayeon in a way that comes naturally, as if nothing would be complete without her say in things. It must be because the girl’s her mother and that’s just how it goes, no matter if technically, Nayeon isn’t her mother _yet._

It’s a few seconds of uncharacteristic silence, of just Nayeon looking at Chaeyoung in a way that would seem weird for others who knew her as a Queen Bitch of some sort. It’s a look that can say a thousand of things, but shouts particularly a few the loudest. 

Nayeon reaches out to fix Chaeyoung’s hoodie. 

“Ignore everyone.” 

_Don’t talk to strangers._

She tucks a strand of loose hair behind Chaeyoung’s ear. 

“Don’t go anywhere else.” 

_Go straight back home._

And she steps back with a small, tight-lipped smile. 

“Don’t die.”

_Take care._

“We’ll be back as soon as possible.” 

_I love you._

Chaeyoung blames her colds for her watery eyes. She nods wordlessly. _Yes, mom._

***

In Erving Goffman’s Dramaturgy, life is characterized as a never-ending play and everyone is an actor. Anyone can portray different kinds of characters in the front stage and everyone acts according to how they want to present themselves as. It’s a play and we’re all part of the show. However, sometimes, pretending to be something you’re entirely not can get tiring; it can feel like constantly learning a new environment to adapt and survive, only to end up forgetting what real home feels like. That’s why people retreat to the backstage, a place where they can be their true selves. But what happens if you’ve blurred the lines between self-presentation and self-reality? What happens if there is no clear distinction anymore? Between the _you_ that you show everyone, and the _you_ that’s only for yourself? 

Sometimes, when the lights get too blinding, Kim Dahyun retreats to the backstage and watches everything unfold from her place. She wonders just how much everyone is _trying_ to show little parts of their true selves in their acting, and to what extent are they even holding masks across their faces. Is it possible that they’ve not only managed to deceive others but themselves as well?

Dahyun retreats to the backstage randomly while everyone’s holding another short water break after a strenuous ten-minute run of their performance, practicing the dance for what felt like a thousand times. She retreats and watches, and wonders who in the group is playing their role well, and who is showing glimpses of their real selves. 

There’s Mina, Momo and Sana talking by the other side of the dance room, animatedly going through the choreography like they haven’t just practiced the entire thing a few seconds ago. Nayeon and Jihyo are seated on the floor, the cheerleader splayed on the hardwood like a starfish while the more collected one of the two is chugging down the remnants of her water bottle. 

Dahyun notices how everyone falls into company naturally, as if they were all meshed to each other like a group of childhood best friends. Individual circumstances required prompt measures, and personally, they weren’t one to let a friend fall on their own. Even if it required having to deal with cliques far different than their own, Dahyun and Momo compromised with Sana for the sake of Jeongyeon and Nayeon. Mina fell into the group like a neutralizer alongside Jihyo (although her introductory moments to the group spoke otherwise). Somehow, they all ended up becoming friends.

Dahyun wonders briefly, is this their backstage too? Their safe place, just like her? 

Ever since the fallout in the parking lot and Chaeyoung’s somehow fervent determination to make Jeongyeon and Nayeon reconcile, there had been a sudden shift in the dynamic of the group.

No longer did Jihyo spend a substantial portion of her time making sure Jeongyeon and Nayeon didn’t kill each other; With Mina it was always just nonchalance or nothing at all, no longer exchanging sneers and huffs with Nayeon; Sana and Momo didn’t play the minor roles of best friends anymore, just existing to comfort the main character whenever they needed a pick-me-up. 

Now they existed in their own worlds that, in a strange way of things, didn’t exist far from each other as well. 

“Yo kid, don’t tell me you’re sick too”, an arm is suddenly thrown around her shoulders, weighing down on her. Dahyun has half the mind to pull off a self-defense shoulder throw but then she remembers she doesn’t know any Judo and it’s Jeongyeon who's more likely to injure _her_ than the other way around. 

Dahyun lets her _favorite unnie_ squeeze her into place, feigning a few helpless grunts and complaints here and there. “I’m not, unnie. Stop squeezing me!” 

“I will if you stop zoning out!” Jeongyeon tightens the grip around the younger girl’s shoulders, letting out poorly-stifled back laughter while using her free hand to ruffle the already-disheveled blond hair. 

It’s frankly a losing battle especially when you’re trying to out-strength possibly the most athletic girl in school but Kim Dahyun is no quitter. Her mother mayhaps raised an emotionally-unstable kid but not a quitter. Dahyun can feel the veins in her head popping when she tries to free herself from Jeongyeon’s excruciating embrace. 

“I’m not zoning out!” 

The other girls excuse their wrestling match as another one of the many weird things the two end up doing when they’re together.

Dahyun wins the match when Jeongyeon finally unhinges herself. She proclaims her triumph mentally only because she’s too busy trying to regain blood circulation to her head. 

Dahyun feels Jeongyeon rubbing her back in soothing circles. 

“You alright there?” 

“You literally just squeezed me to death…”

Jeongyeon huffs in jest. “Because you wouldn’t tell me what’s bothering you!”

“Nothing’s bothering me? I was just thinking to myself.” 

“About?” 

Dahyun looks up at the older girl with scanning eyes, calculating from the expressions on Jeongyeon’s face if transparency is an option. When Jeongyeon’s brows furrow in what looks like genuine concern and the corners of her lips tug down in an obnoxious pout, Dahyun decides to give in.

“Something changed, unnie.” 

Okay, maybe that wasn’t complete transparency judging from the confused frown on Jeongyeon’s face, but Dahyun decides carefully treading to the issue is better than jumping at it wholeheartedly. 

Jeongyeon purses her lips unknowingly. “Changed where?”

"Well for starters, you and Nayeon unnie don’t seem to fight anymore”, Dahyun shrugs. “Or criticize one another; Or even seem to hate each other at all. It’s like some switch was flipped.”

“What makes you say we don’t hate each other?”

Honestly, Jeongyeon is a woman of various talents but even Dahyun knows, acting is not one of them. If she can name one person who can _never_ distinguish the line between front stage and backstage, it would be Yoo Jeongyeon. She is unapologetically transparent, it’s amusing to see the normally chic girl look so jittery, lying through gritted teeth. 

“You literally tripped earlier during the instrumental and broke the sequence of the dance break, yet she didn’t say _anything._ But when I mistimed my steps during the last ten seconds, she nagged at me for an entire minute.” 

“I mean…” Jeongyeon reluctantly trails off. _She can’t possibly explain that…_ “You know how Nayeon doesn’t like mistiming the steps…?”

_Wow, she did._

“Unnie, you don’t have to hide it if you two are getting along”, Dahyun sighs, exhausted just by watching her unnie put up such an unconvincing act. “It’s fine. It’s perfect even.” 

Jeongyeon seems to understand the exasperation in the younger girl’s tone. The worried frown on her face doesn’t fade away any soon. “But why does it feel like it’s not okay with you?” 

In the space between the second Dahyun registers the murky oceans of trepidation in Jeongyeon’s eyes and the second she sees the gap in time, the brief pause for an opportunity to drop her act, Dahyun realizes _this is it._ This is her backstage. 

“Everyone’s got someone, unnie.” It feels like peeling the layers to get through the core. Dahyun’s been smiling for so long that feeling sad feels unfamiliar to her. “We’ve all been together for so long and Chaeyoung's here too, and it all feels _so_ unreal? It feels happy and giddy and amazing even though the reason we all came together isn’t really ideal. Sometimes I feel like...this is all too happy, it's going to be the closest we’ve got to heaven?”

Jeongyeon understands what Dahyun’s words mean. She spares a look at the dance room and everyone around them. Nayeon had now somehow managed to pull Mina into a conversation albeit done with Momo’s help, and Sana is going through the choreography with Jihyo animatedly, laughing over tiny mistakes. _It makes me feel happy. It does look like heaven._

“With you two getting along, everyone’s managed to work well with each other too. And it’s amazing despite being unusual at best”, Dahyun forces a small chuckle. “But sometimes I feel like...I’m just a tag-along? Like someone just here to attend the weekly practices and disappear after that. Everyone’s got someone. Nayeon unnie has Sana and Jihyo unnie, and you have Momo and Mina unnie. I...I’m no one’s.”

The gloom on Jeongyeon’s face makes Dahyun want to take her words back, makes her want to automatically revert to her established character as the default comfort friend. But she can’t take them back now, not when Jeongyeon looks just about ready to smack whoever hurt Dahyun but can’t actually do it because it’s Dahyun herself who's hurt her own.

“What are you talking about? You’re _my_ someone, Dubu!” 

Dahyun regrets letting Jeongyeon know this because now the older girl is being all mushy and reactive, and her voice ends up being loud enough to echo around the room, gaining the attention of the other girls who, _unfortunately_ , start making their way over to the commotion.

“What’s wrong?” The innate leader in Jihyo steps out, asking as soon as they reach the two. 

If Dahyun wasn’t busy being squeezed to death _again_ by Jeongyeon, she would have made a run for it. Jeongyeon barely gets mushy and sentimental but she’s ended up becoming one, what more for the natural-born _mushy and sentimental_ members (with the exception of the two girls trailing a few steps behind)?

“Jeongyeon killed Dahyun with that hug, that’s what's wrong…” Nayeon rolls her eyes behind Jihyo. 

Jeongyeon doesn’t stop _killing_ Dahyun though, only hugging tighter and pressing her cheeks against Dahyun’s own. “Dahyunnie is saaaad…”

“What? Why?” Sana frets, almost reflecting the same Trojan-like reaction from Jeongyeon earlier, both always ready to battle it out with whoever hurts one of their friends. 

“She said Nayeon’s favorite was Chaeyoung, Sana’s was Momo, Jihyo’s was Mina, and no one was hers!” 

“I did not say that—"

But it’s too late. Everyone’s already “aww-ing” and attacking Dahyun with their own open-wide arms, throwing themselves at a hug pile, with the exception of two other sheepish girls standing a few feet away beside each other. 

Jihyo looks up from the group hug, over at the silent girls. “Are you two _not_ going to join this moment?” 

“You mean become an accessory to murder?” Nayeon deadpans. “Nope. I’d rather not, Jihyo.”

Mina only cocks a brow. “You guys are strangling Dahyun to death.” 

“Because she needs a hug!” Sana chirps somewhere underneath Momo. Dahyun feels her eardrums break. 

“Do you need a hug too, Miss Grumpy pants?” Jeongyeon looks up, mischievously grinning at Nayeon with an underlying meaning that thankfully, only the two of them understand. Sort of. 

“Are you offering a hug to the devil, Jeongyeon?” Jihyo teases, suddenly breaking free from the pile. Sana and Momo follow, and Dahyun is finally allowed to breathe. 

Jeongyeon, _again_ , is the worst actress there is. “W-What? I wasn’t even—”

“Oh, come on”, thankfully, Sana comes to her rescue. She flutters her eyes at the scowling Nayeon who looks more jealous than annoyed (of what–or _who–_ they don't know) and the nonchalant Mina who looks to be hiding the amusement tugging at her lips. “You both need hugs as well! To loosen up your tight muscles.” 

“That doesn’t make any sense—"

But Nayeon’s words are only left incoherently muffling and grunting when Sana literally launches herself over to them, followed by Momo’s enthusiastic embrace, and Jeongyeon and Jihyo’s _oh-whatever_ ones. Dahyun is the last to join, simply because this feels like the closest to heaven they’ll ever get, and she’s not going to waste an opportunity to feel home. 

***

Eventually, Nayeon and Mina break free from the huge pile with poorly stifled back smiles on their faces. Jihyo and the innate leader in her goes through a lengthy explanation of how no one has favorites in the group–except maybe Sana for Momo, because that girl will never _not_ be able to show affection for the soccer co-captain _–_ and they practice their performance two more times before they get surprise visitors in a bunch of AV club and school paper members ambushing the ballroom.

Jihyo deals with them like a PR manager. “Yes, Mingyu? What brings you and your friends here?”

It’s like a bunch of fans coming to cheer for them. It brings Dahyun to that one universal fact she’s somehow managed to overlook time and time again” Their group isn’t just a simple bunch of friends just living their lives in high school; They weren’t even friends in the first place. They came along together like the Justice League and ended up becoming the quintessential high school gang without them even knowing it. 

Sometimes Dahyun forgets Nayeon and Sana are cheerleading captains and school alpha queens, and Jeongyeon and Momo are soccer captains and the ultimate girl crushes. Whenever they’re all together, it just feels like they’re normal high school kids just trying to survive with each other. 

_That’s probably because we are just a bunch of normal high school kids…_

“Oh, we’re taking pictures for the yearbook and the posters for the festival talent show, noona”, Mingyu, the only decent kid out of the bunch of fanboys, explains with a polite smile, his camera hanging around his neck. 

“Uh Uh...you and the entire population of the freshmen boys?” Nayeon cocks a brow at the hormonal teenage boys drooling over at the sight of them–it’s not even sarcasm. Dahyun literally saw a boy wipe his chin with the back of his hand. _Gross._

“They’re trainees of the club, noona. I’m sorry if they look like animals escaping the zoo.” Mingyu bows his head in an apology while Jihyo only smirks at the younger, mild-mannered boy. 

“Well, what are we waiting for?” the leader turns to the group, eyeing the unamused Mina and Jeongyeon expectantly. Above anyone else, they’re the ones who don’t like being under the spotlight too much, despite the latter’s popularity and the attraction Mina gets with her unadulterated beauty. “Everyone gather up.” 

“But we’re not complete!” Nayeon protests while letting Jihyo drag her by the arm into a group line formation, just beside an obviously holding-back Jeongyeon. “We’re missing Chaeyoung!”

“But we _really_ need the picture now, noona”, Mingyu pouts. In the end Jihyo forces Nayeon to let this one slide for the sake of getting it over with. Nayeon only lets out a defeated sigh. 

They take the picture with Mingyu’s weird-looking Konica Aiborg. It’s about ten shots worth of perfection for the others but for Dahyun and the girls, it’s about ten shots worth of immortalized happiness. _I want this forever._

After the impromptu photoshoot, Sana invites everyone over at her place to help for the decorations in the party tomorrow night. Mina volunteered to help her make the flower decorations but it won’t be enough. Dahyun, Momo, and Jihyo offer more help. 

“How about you, Jeong? I’m going to teach you how to make paper flowers. Didn’t you want to learn them?” Sana peeks her head through the passenger door’s rolled-down window, leaning over Momo on the seat. She’s driving her parents’ Pajero nowadays after an unofficial arrangement of her becoming the designated source of transportation of the group.

“I don’t think I can do today, Satang.” Jeongyeon tries to make sure it doesn’t look like it’s because of Nayeon, of her by herself at the dorm with a sickly Chaeyoung, or of her being just alone in general. “Nayeon can’t take care of Chaeyoung alone.” 

It’s partially true, and false to an extent. Nayeon gets along with kids better than Jeongyeon, but to take care of one who’s sick–even though Chaeyoung can probably do it on her own–is not something she’s tried doing by herself before. 

“Okay then”, Thankfully, Sana relents without any suspicion. “You guys take care of her, okay?”

They drive away after a few more farewells and _see-you-laters_ , and Jeongyeon is finally left alone with Nayeon. 

***

The run to and from the drugstore takes twice as long even though the nearest one is only a few buildings away from the dorm. Everything takes up to double the effort for Chaeyoung to accomplish especially with how sluggish and heavy she feels. The environment didn't help her predicament as well. Gray cascading clouds hinder the beautiful sun's goodbye and the cold wind brushes past the thick cloth of Chaeyoung's hoodie, prickling painfully at her sensitive skin.

When the clouds let out muffled thundering cries, Chaeyoung is left to firmly deduce even more that her luck with the universe has ultimately run out. It doesn’t even take a full minute before soft, driblets of water fall from the skies, like the clouds had finally gotten enough of the weight on it. _That makes one of us._

Maybe it’s the inner grunge in her admiring the aesthetic or the lethargy brought by the colds, but either way, Chaeyoung decides not to shield herself from the rain. She lets the droplets of water soak the fabric of her jacket, wetting the shoulder pads and the hoodie above her head first before everything else. She enjoys the sight of the clouds above her and the people scurrying over to building awnings. She succumbs into the fascination of the rhythmic raindrops, trees dancing with the cold wind. 

Chaeyoung uses this period of tranquility to introspect the foreboding settling at the pit of her stomach. 

Time passes by fast in her situation, and it felt like it was only yesterday when she woke up in an alleyway behind the diner, to pretty stranger Jeongyeon and her golden-haired ray-of-sunshine friend, Dahyun. Now it’s a few days into July but the only progress Chaeyoung has done is not even that much progress at all. Her only considered mission is to make sure there’s no more fallout between her mother and Jeongyeon, and she seems to be doing well in that. Everything’s happy and colorful, but only until when?

Yumama greets her with a blanket when she enters the lobby of the dorm building. She makes a mention of July being the rainiest months of the year on their way to her office for some warmth and new blankets, and it leaves the apprehensive churning in Chaeyoung’s stomach, like that tingling whenever there’s a presence nearby or the wariness of when entering a dangerous perimeter, settling down to something akin to morose. 

_It’s July._

There’s no need to calculate it. Chaeyoung went through it before. If you revert forty weeks from April, it ends in July. That means, as weird as it is just by thinking about it, it’s some time this month when Chaeyoung was conceived.

_Oh shit._

It makes a pretty neat explanation as to why Chaeyoung had been feeling a downfall in her health and a certain inexplicable apprehension lately. Although there’s no factual evidence to the theory of alternate universes or time travelling itself, Chaeyoung is sure there’s some kind of imperative rule forbidding time travelers to meet themselves in the past, in order to avoid overlapping timelines. 

_So does this mean...I’m gonna...disappear soon?_

There’s the apprehension stemming from the uncertainty of her return. If Chaeyoung did change things in the past, would she still be existing in the present? Or would the present be entirely different and there’s no Chaeyoung anymore? What if the situation to be met in order to gain her mother’s happiness isn’t really making sure Jeongyeon has to stay, but rather, making sure Chaeyoung doesn’t happen?

_There’s...there’s got to be another option, right? I mean, technically speaking I can’t really affect the thought process of my past self because, well, I barely had any thought process! I was just baby here and—_

"Your two roommates have individual packages today", Yumama's voice snaps her out of her thoughts, reappearing by the threshold of her office with another neatly-folded blanket and heating pack. She hands them over to Chaeyoung and moves to retrieve something from the drawer of her desk, an envelope. 

"It's the end of the first semester and it's scouting season for universities so Jeongyeon normally receives these." She gives the envelope to Chaeyoung, who only holds up the classical-looking envelope at eye-level to inspect it halfheartedly. On the piece of paper is Yonsei University's name and crest carved in candle wax, as if it was some fancy English letter. Chaeyoung tingles at the refined artistry. She's never been able to consider applying for the SKY universities because the idea always seemed so...far-fetched. Jeongyeon must really be a successful soccer player to be offered scholarship admissions to—

"Wait, ahjumma…" Chaeyoung trails off with a frown. "This envelope says _To: Yoo Kyungwan_. I think you got it wrong?" 

But Yumama only lets out a dismissive laugh and a wave of her hand, "Oh, sweetie, no. That's Jeongyeon. They just always get her name wrong. Kyungwan is her birth name but she had it changed to Jeongyeon." 

"Kyungwan…?" Chaeyoung lets the name settle on her tongue, familiarizing itself in her mind. How is it possible that she feels like she's heard of the name before? 

"Remind Jeongyeon to reply to those, okay?" Yumama takes a seat on her office chair. "She always forgets to, they pile up in the mailbox. That girl normally keeps tabs on post-its but I guess you girls have been busy on the practice, huh? I don't see sticky notes flying out of your dorm anymore when I pass by." 

It ends with a lighthearted, reminiscent chuckle from the middle-aged woman, but Chaeyoung can't seem to find the awareness to reciprocate the amusement. Not when everything continuously clicks in her mind like puzzle pieces coming together in one go. It's all overwhelming. _Yoo Kyungwan. Post-it._

The night Chaeyoung travelled back in time doesn't feel like a distant memory. In fact, it comes to her vividly, every single moment that led to her birthday wish. Her memory works in almost a comical way. Remembering things it doesn't need to, and forgetting those she needed to remember the most.

 _Yoo Kyungwan was in mom's post-it note. It was dated in 1999. That means_ _Jeongyeon stayed even after I was born…_

_What made her leave then?_

The answer comes in the form of the envelope on her lap. 

"Wait, ahjumma, I have a question." Chaeyoung feels her head spinning madly. "When are the college applications due?" 

"Registrations are only until the end of April, sweetie. Seniors usually move out of the dorm before that because they still have to move and settle into their college dorms." 

_Before the end of April…_

Chaeyoung feels like fainting. Beneath the mud-beschmired soles of her shoes, the hardwood floors of Yumama’s office feel soft, like a fur rug. Her head feels like it’s swirling in an eternity of tireless thinking. The ache comes from the temples of her forehead and migrates to the entirety of her head, consciousness slowly feeling like it’s ebbing away. 

“By the way honey, tell your Nayeon unnie she has a visitor…” Yumama’s voice is dwindling away, like it’s driving through a tunnel towards the end and Chaeyoung is stuck in place, far away. “There’s a guy waiting in the—”

But Chaeyoung doesn’t hear anything after that anymore. She falls on the floor like a puppet released from its string. 

***

It's essentially awkward now, being together out in the public quite literally. They only let themselves be together _alone_ if it entails being within the safe confinements of their dorm. Even when they're together with the girls, Jeongyeon always chooses not to stay too close to Nayeon for the sake of attracting less skepticism. It only comes to her naturally when she walks a few steps behind Nayeon, slower in pace and more calculated. 

Besides, Nayeon is the type of person to walk in brisk steps, always keen on getting more from the environment around her. Jeongyeon moved at a slow pace, more on the type to take in the beauty of a portion of a place before having to see its entirety.

Now, with the puddles of water reflecting the lights around, the pavements shimmering with rain residues, and the night falls a little lighter on them. The breeze is especially cold despite it being a July. The darkness blends perfectly with everything, if they weren’t walking back to deal with a sick roommate, Jeongyeon would have taken Nayeon through the longer route just to spend more time with her. 

“Are you zoning out like Dahyun now?” 

Jeongyeon jumps back a little when Nayeon materializes in front of her, a mere few feet away, one hand on her hip while the other holding on the strap of her gym bag. The wind blows behind her and Jeongyeon catches a whiff of citrus-scented perfume. 

“I was just thinking about what she said…” 

Nayeon takes a step closer with a shit-eating grin, and uses her protruding elbow to nudge Jeongyeon’s side in a pestering way. “What about it?” 

Jeongyeon is left with no choice but to deal with it. This side of Nayeon. She figures there aren’t many people walking around anymore given how it’s _way_ past class hours and the rain had just died down. No one gets to see them like this. 

“She said she was afraid to be left behind alone.” 

“What made her think that?” Nayeon frowns, taking slower steps in order to walk beside Jeongyeon.

“She noticed everyone had their own groupies at the end of the day. You had Sana and Jihyo. I had Mina and Momo. She was no one’s.” 

“What about Chaeyoung?” Nayeon remembers the pleasant duo that the two have managed to form. “Aren’t they like, bros for life now?”

“Yes, but Chaeyoung is on your side. She’s your favorite.”

Nayeon has half the urge to ask where did that come from, but she shrugs it off for now. “And she’s not yours?”

“Well, I told her that, of course”, Jeongyeon makes a turn at the next left before their dorm building. “But she said something else that got me thinking too…” 

“What was it?”

Jeongyeon thinks deep into it. There’s that eagerness to explain it to Nayeon pushing at the tip of her tongue, but she feels set back by the realization that if she does tell it, it would be unfair for Dahyun and also challenging for her to be able to fully explain. She wouldn’t be able to put it out entirely without ripping off some time from their supposed hurrying given the bigger issue that was their sick roommate waiting for them.

In the end, she resigns from diving into the matter too much. Decides it’s better to save it for some other day. “Nothing. It was nothing”, Jeongyeon shakes her head with a soft dismissing smile. “Don’t mind it. I’ll make sure to check up on her.” 

Beneath Jeongyeon’s words, laced in a tone of sweet musings and innocent curiosity, Nayeon could feel the underlying weight of worry for the usually-upbeat younger girl she had, for the sake of admitting it, came to take a liking as well. Jeongyeon’s words didn’t seem to reflect the person Nayeon kind of perceived Dahyun to be. If someone she loved ended up having the same thoughts and worries, Nayeon would also feel inclined to be concerned. 

“Okay then.” But there’s no point in pushing the answer out of Jeongyeon. She seemed firm in resolving the matter–whatever it was–on her own, and Nayeon knew Dahyun was a strong girl. It required a different kind of strength to remain smiling even after going through hell and back. 

By the time they ended their conversation at that, they were already a few steps away from the dorm building’s doors in an unusual state of being opened wide. When they close in on the distance, they see a bustling crowd in the lobby, forming what looks like a huddle around something–or someone. 

“What’s happening?” It’s Jeongyeon who asks in a general direction, coherent for those beside them. Whoever’s there must be famous or something because no one bothers to spare Jeongyeon any reply. Everyone’s just trying to shove each other to get to the center. 

Nayeon seems to be the most annoyed by the tight spaces and the manhandling. She nearly jabbed someone’s rib out just to get her way through. “This better be someone famous because I swear to god, I’m going to kill the next person who lays a hand on—”

“Oh my god, she’s here!” 

Someone screeches and it takes Jeongyeon a complete second to register the voice coming in from a trajectory directly in front of them. It’s a girl she can’t fully recognize but seems naive enough to be a freshman, and she’s pointing at Jungyeon and Nayeon’s direction. 

It takes another complete second for Jeongyeon to figure it out, while the crowd parts in half like the halls whenever the cheerleaders would pass or like Moses when he parted the red sea. They’re not looking at her. Everyone’s looking at Nayeon. 

_What the hell…_

And then she sees it. The figure standing at the other end of the crowd, clad in casual cargo pants and a shirt, holding up a bouquet of half-wilted flowers. When he looks over to them, his eyes dart over to Jeongyeon for a split second, in what seems like a confused albeit uninterested gaze, and then moves towards the prime focus of attention, his beloved girlfriend, Im Nayeon. 

_So this is what Dahyun was talking about._

Nayeon must be just as shocked as Jeongyeon because she refuses to move even when everyone’s outright shouting at her to, like this is some concluding moment in a romantic movie where the asshole lead finally realizes his douchebag-ness and comes repenting by publicly confessing his love for the main girl.

Jeongyeon _hates_ romantic movies. 

Because Nayeon doesn’t have the soul to move, Woo Dohwan does. He takes slow, casual steps towards Nayeon, and suddenly Jeongyeon was no better than everyone else acting like extras in a movie. 

Someone shoves Jeongyeon to the side to get a better and closer look at the scene before them. Sometimes, Jeongyeon forgets Woo Dohwan is a big name around town. She also sometimes forgets, his girlfriend is Im Nayeon. 

The crowd ends up engulfing her and pushing her away to the farthest, deepest portions of the dark sea, away from the safety of the shore. Dahyun’s words ring in her mind, as Jeongyeon feels herself getting washed away to the other side of the lobby, far from the ruckus but not far enough to not see Dohwan press a long, fervent kiss on Nayeon’s lips.

_Heaven was nice while it lasted._

Jeongyeon leaves the sight before anything else happens. 

***

(When Chaeyoung drowsily wakes up nearly an hour later, in their room, it’s to someone’s back pressed against her, ash-gray shoulder-length hair cascading down on shoulders rising and falling lightly. Chaeyoung knows who it is and turns on the bed to face the older girl, one arm unknowingly wrapping itself around well-toned abs like a child hugging her mother back. 

Her headache is gone and all is left is the ache in her heart. _Mom._

She falls asleep right before she can hear a small whimper escape from Jeongyeon's lips, before the older girl tugs at her hand and pulls her closer. “Sleep tight, Chaeyoungie.”)

***

In a crowd of squirming girls and leering boys huddling around them, Nayeon pushes back her boyfriend and staggers a little in the process. She squirms at the sensation of his chapped lips over hers in a deep-seated kiss, wants to wipe her lips with the back of her hand even if it entailed embarrassment on Dohwan’s park, but she doesn’t do so because of the little shame she has left for him. 

Woo Dohwan may not be the best guy in the world--heck, not even close to being a decent one--but Nayeon knows how to behave when she has to. This time, even though her entire soul screams at her to look for Jeongyeon in the crowd (because somehow she lost the girl), Nayeon stays in place and faces her fear. Decides, tonight’s the night she ends this. 

“You look smokin’ hot, babe”, Dohwan whispers crudely in Nayeon’s ear, one hand moving dangerously low. “Did you always look this—”

Nayeon catches it before he can even do anything more. “Not here, Dohwan.” She says it with gritted teeth and a tone laced with vexation, but he takes it the other way and responds with a smirk. He leans in closer to his girlfriend’s ear. “Where then?”

 _This asshole._ Nayeon only lets out an exasperated sigh. “Anywhere that’s not crowded with your chaotic admirers?”

Frankly, Nayeon doesn’t even understand why the freshmen girls take a liking to hot-shot older athletes. Is it a standard nowadays to get themselves older boyfriends? Is having one the answer to the world’s problems? Prince Charles was older than Princess Diana but he still cheated on her. _Boys will be boys regardless of their age._

“Sure, babe.” Dohwan is tall, about an entire head over Nayeon. When he stands up straighter, he can see over the crowd and utilizes this ability to find them a more private place. 

Unfortunately, his mind doesn’t work as well as his basketball skills. 

“How about in your room then?” Dohwan playfully wiggles his brows in what other girls would find adorable. Nayeon just finds it even more annoying. 

“I have roommates, _oppa._ ”

“Oh, right”, He scowls with a bitter huff .”Is Jeongyeon still there?” 

“I meant another roommate, a new kid. I wouldn’t want to scar her.” 

“Oh, so you did think of doing _it_ too…” Dohwan grins. Nayeon can only wish to wipe it away from his face. 

“No. I meant, she’ll be scarred by seeing your face.” 

“Okay. Private place then.” Of course, Dohwan saves his busted ego by diverting the topic of their talk ever so casually. He takes a precautionary look at the perimeter behind the crowd gathering around them before deciding to drag Nayeon over to the end of the hall leading to the backdoor. Since no one gets past the admin’s desk by the lobby, no one gets to follow them over. 

Dohwan laughs at the thrill of running away from his crowd of admirers. Nayeon is breathless only because she’s been dancing the entire day and she’s suddenly running now. 

Once they’re settled, it only dawns on Dohwan that he brought a bouquet of disgruntled flowers. He hands them over to Nayeon with a smile. “For you by the way.” 

But Nayeon pushes them back quickly. “I have allergic rhinitis, remember?” 

“Oh, sorry. Slipped my mind.” Dohwan nonchalantly throws the bouquet out the open backdoor, startling Nayeon. 

“You didn’t have to throw it–ugh. Never mind.” She feels a migraine approaching. “What are you doing here?”

The shit-eating grin is plastered on Down's face again. He creeps his arms around Nayeon’s waist and pulls her close until they’re pressed against each other. “I just wanted to see my girlfriend…”

When Nayeon feels his face leaning closer, she immediately pulls away. “Well, I want to see you too. We need to talk.” 

There’s really no point to prolong the agony anymore, or to beat around the bush. 

Their relationship had never been the fairytale everyone painted it out to be. Sure, it was a classic in the first few months. Dating the head basketball player–a senior no less–had been full of benefits, had skyrocketed Nayeon up the social totem pole of high school. But with Dohwan it became all about _him_ . It was _his_ favorites, _his_ opinions over hers. The only reason Nayeon held on to their relationship was because there was _no reason_ not to. Yes, he was selfish. Yes, he cheated on her more than once (all courtesy of the basketball gossip Nayeon is _always_ updated on). But Dohwan...holding on to him meant Nayeon still had something to justify her decision to push Jeongyeon away with. Nayeon only stayed with Dohwan because it was what she thought Jeongyeon needed. 

Now that Nayeon knows what Jeongyeon _truly_ wants, there’s no need to stay with him anymore.

“Oh yes, I almost forgot! I have something to say too. Can I go first?” Dohwan moves back, takes the gesture where Nayeon tries to stay away from him as an indication that she needs some space. He innocently understands it and leans on the wall behind him instead, arms crossed over his chest in that charmingly masculine way. 

Nayeon looks deeply into the animated eyes, trying to read into it. She doesn’t get anything. “Sure.” 

“Okay, babe, I’ve been thinking about this for quite some time now. I just couldn’t properly bring myself to go here because I was busy with basketball. But with that big Minatozaki party going on tomorrow—”

“Wait, you’re gonna come?” 

“Of course! Who misses out on Sana Minatozaki’s parties?” Dohwan incredulously rebukes before continuing, “Anyways, I’ve been thinking and”, he then proceeds to move towards Nayeon to grab her hands, interlacing their fingers with each other. He looks deeply into the smaller girl’s eyes. “Babe…”

Nayeon _knows._ She prepare begins to prepare her speech on—

“...let’s break up.” 

_Wait what._ “What?”

The smile on Down's face falters away. “Nayeon, let’s break up. It’s not you. It’s me.” 

It takes about a second for everything to register on Nayeon. When it finally does, her first reaction is only mechanical. A long, relieved sigh. “Wow”, she pulls her hands away from Dohwan. “I was literally just about to break up with you too! Wow. I am so surprised of the coincidence—”

“Wait, what?” 

Nayeon freezes. “What?” 

The expression on Down's face is uncharacteristically serious and entirely raw shock, and Nayeon isn’t quite sure what’s happening–can’t quite bring herself to understand what _just_ happened–but when the confusion on Down's face doesn’t leave, she decides to voice out her own perplexion instead.

“Didn’t you just say you were breaking up with me…?”

Dohwan lets out a series of gibberish curses. “It was a joke!” 

Nayeon feels like she had just been slapped by the bitter cold reality. “What? Who jokes about something like that!?”

“Me!” If Nayeon looks closer, she would see the nonexistent smoke coming out of Down's head. “It was to get you to beg! I wanted to make fun of the situation!”

Nayeon can’t honestly believe what she’s hearing. If she had the energy, she would have gladly recited a thousand reasons to her _ex-_ boyfriend about _not_ –absolutely _not_ –making fun of such a situation, but the entire day she’s been physically going at it with the practicing and her exhaustion is unbearable to the point that she honestly can’t bother with anything else anymore–not even troubling herself about relationship woes with someone as _inconsiderate_ as Woo Dohwan. 

For a moment there she thought he was actually going to change. 

“Well, I’m sorry?” It leaves more of a question than a statement. The migraine pounds on Nayeon’s head like a mallet hitting a chisel. “But if you’re not serious then I am. I’m breaking up with you. “

“W-What? You can’t do that, Nayeon!” 

“Why can’t I?” 

But of course, a man who thinks so high of himself can’t see the real problem. He looks over it and looks for someone else to blame. “Is it someone else? Is there someone else!?”

A man who thinks so high of himself fails to see, the problem doesn’t lie anywhere else. He needs not to look for it. All he needs to see is himself. 

Nayeon crosses her arms over her chest, lips pressed in a thin line, eyes cast dark. She keeps her silence and answers him with that.

Woo Dohwan is only smart when he wants to be. He figures it out this time. “There is! Who the _fuck_ —” but he cuts off his own train of words when a thought occurs in his mind, much like a switch being flipped and a light being ignited. A familiar face pops up. 

In hindsight, Nayeon should have never expected Dohwan to take a breakup easily. After all, he benefitted in their relationship more than she ever did. There were other boys as muscular and even as talented as he was, but none of them had Im Nayeon as their girlfriend. 

“Is it the soccer captain?” There’s intense distaste in Down's tone; nose wrinkling, brows lowering, and eyes darkening. It’s as if they were talking about something grotesque like hurting a puppy or throwing somebody’s body off into a lake. He’s revolting as he should be, finally his true nature within reflecting outside. 

Nayeon doesn’t want to feel this way, as if she’s forced to go back to her old self--the fragile and scared child within, afraid of the world’s eyes. 

Dohwan towers over her and looks with all the repulsion in the world. “Are you like her too?”

It takes an insane amount of effort to force a reply out of her, but even when Nayeon does manage to voice out her uncertain dread, it only ends up as faltering words, “W-What are you--” 

But even then Dohwan doesn’t let her finish, stepping closer and grabbing a firm hold on Nayeon’s arm, as if trying to press the answer out of her. “Don’t fuck with me, Nayeon”, he grits out, eyes no longer recognizeable with all the dark repulsion and abhorrence filling them. “So it _was_ true? The rumors about a cheerleader hooking up with the soccer chick was true?! It was _you_!?”

And there ignited an overflow of curses, jibes, of hell broken loose. When Dohwan throws his fist at the nearest surface he can hit--a wall, newly painted in a shade of happy yellow--Nayeon feels all the horror in the world flash in front of her, like the show had finally ended and she has to deal with the reality now, the cruelty of the world as it actually exists.

Dohwan goes on and on, about hearing the rumor from his teammates that had become a locker room daily conversation topic. Some saucy girl on girl thing the boys had fantasized about. A cheerleader from the private school was keeping secrets with a soccer chick. The boys went wild with their imaginations. 

Nayeon couldn’t hear much anymore, couldn’t fathom anything other than the crippling voices in her head telling her things. _This is the cruel reality. This is how they’ll see her. This is how they’ll treat her._ But the absolute terror in her, the wires around her chest holding her breathing down, didn’t come from the thought of how people would look at her, of the neverending repulsion brought on by initiating something so _sacrilegious_ and _inhuman_ , the horror came from the thought of how the world would treat Jeongyeon. Would they condemn her for simply loving someone?

“You’re sick, Nayeon!” Down's words sit in Nayeon’s skin like a knife precariously rammed, not too deep to kill her but just enough to inflict unbearable pain. “You’re going to regret everything.” 

Nayeon used to take threats so well--could make a book about all the pleasantries she snapped back with--but with Dohwan all she could do was stand lifelessly and feel the numbness overtake her body. She doesn’t even feel it when Dohwan lets go of her arm forcefully and walks out through the backdoor, leaving behind him discolored imprints of his hold on Nayeon’s skin.

It takes about more than a few minutes for Nayeon to regain herself. When she looks out at the backdoor, all she sees is the bouquet of half-wilted Forsythias lying on the ground, crushed and in pieces. _Just like her._

It takes another ten minutes to compose herself in front of the dorm room's door, stop the way her hands tremble against the knob. Nayeon takes a few breaths in before twisting the knob and pushing the door open. 

The room is dark and the only source of light comes from the windows partially open, moonlight filtered by the sheer checkered curtains Jeongyeon had changed their classic whites for, out of whim. 

_Jeongyeon._

Nayeon’s eyes naturally fall on the girl’s side of the room. She’s met with an empty bed, sheets without crease and any trace of its owner’s touch. The pillows are stacked together just like how Nayeon remembered fixing them as, and the soccer-printed blanket is neatly folded on the edge of the bed. 

_Jeongyeon._

It’s like the chains around her heart finally succeeded in pulling her down, knees causing a thud when it meets the wooden floors. Nayeon gasps for air and clutches at her chest. There are no tears in her eyes, no. Not this time. The pain comes from inside, like the knife had finally thrusted deeper and--

“Mom?” 

_Chaeyoung._

Nayeon looks up at the bed in the center, sees a disgruntled and half-asleep Chaeyoung sitting up with a blanket pulled up to and draped around her shoulders. There’s something that comes along hearing the sleep-induced raspy voice of the younger girl. It’s like a hole had been punctured on Nayeon’s chest for her to breathe. 

“Chaeyoung…” Nayeon walks over to the side of Chaeyoung’s bed. “Go back to sleep.” 

Once she’s near enough, she sees the figure sleeping soundly behind. 

Nayeon finally breathes. 

“Mom…” There’s a crack in Chaeyoung’s voice, like when you’ve shouted long enough to strain your chords and now you’re tired and hanging on your last thread of hope. Nayeon overlooks the odd feeling that came along being mistakenly called _mom_ by the younger girl. 

_Maybe she just really misses her mom._

“Go back to sleep, Chaeyoungie.” Nayeon crouches on the side of the bed when Chaeyoung slowly goes back to lying down, cheeks pressed against the back of her hand. 

When she stands up to move towards her bed, a dazed and barely awake Chaeyoung pulls at her wrist softly, almost unnoticeable. She doesn’t even look up or open her eyes when she whispers something Nayeon can’t perfectly understand--or hear. It’s only at the second try, she does. 

“It’s cold. Sleep here, mom.” 

It doesn’t fully register on Nayeon that _here_ meant there, and _there_ was beside Chaeyoung, in the crampy little space on the other end of her bed. Nayeon’s bed is twice as big, has twice the comfort from her fur blanket and raggedy bunny stuffed toy, but it only takes a few moments of hesitation before Nayeon slips off her shoes and slides into Chaeyoung’s bed. 

Chaeyoung moves back a little, and Jeongyeon lets out a small grunt. The bed creaks when they adjust and Jeongyeon shifts to the other side to face Chaeyoung, who’s now snoring lightly into the dip between Nayeon’s neck, head pressed underneath the older girl’s chin. 

It’s cramped and cold, and slightly uncomfortable at best. But when Chaeyoung wraps an arm idly around her torso and Nayeon is left with no choice but to hold on tight to avoid falling on her back, her hand meets that of the warm ones wrapped around Chaeyoung’s own midriff, and her body immediately recognizes it as Jeongyeon, sound asleep and snoring lightly, hair in disarray against the pillow. 

“Good night, mom.” Chaeyoung whispers softly against her skin. 

Nayeon doesn’t have the heart to say anything about that. All she does is reach out for Jeongyeon’s hand and hold it tight with her own, letting them rest on top of Chaeyoung’s side. 

“Good night, Chaeyoungie.” 

_I hope your heaven lasts long too._

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part 2 will be posted mayhaps tomorrow! i feel like, the pre-party should be emphasized before the party itself :) 
> 
> This is for sar and maria btw. thank u guys for cheering me up when i needed it the most 🥺


	12. i just want you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (And just like that, their heaven comes to an end.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is it

The day passes by like a movie playing in fast-forward, skipping any minor scene for the major event: Sana Minatozaki’s party. 

***

  
  


When Jeongyeon woke up that morning, she woke up without a care in the world. 

When she got out of bed quietly and carefully, the first sight that greeted her was the sight of Chaeyoung bundled up in her covers, barely sharing any fabric _and space_ to the girl sleeping on the other side of her bed. Jeongyeon had to do a double take to make sure it was Im Nayeon she was seeing, in all the glory of her clothes from yesterday, snoring heavily. 

A part of Jeongyeon wanted to softly wake the girl up and maybe take her to breakfast or share some biscuits from her emergency snack drawer. They could’ve eaten on her bed and waited for Chaeyoung to wake up so that they can give her biscuits too and make sure she takes her meds. _Maybe we even share a few kisses here and there._ But then she remembered what happened yesterday, of the fantasy she had blindingly deceived herself with, and how her _heaven_ came down crashing on her too. 

For tonight, Jeongyeon chose somebody else.

***

Chaeyoung doesn’t have a lot–or anything at all–to compare the hype of her aunt Sana’s party with. 

Although she wasn’t necessarily “uncool” enough to _not_ be invited to parties at her school, she didn’t attend any gathering or event that required forced socializing and unwanted trouble. It’s okay, Chaeyoung thinks. She hasn’t had any run-ups with the police unlike the majority of her school’s population. It doesn’t cure the chasm of longing inside of her though, knowing that she’s potentially missing out on her youth just because she decided to be more responsible than rebellious. When aunt Sana’s party comes into view like a beacon of light, Chaeyoung decides, as dangerous and potentially harmful to her mission it is, she’s going to attend the so-called “Party of the Year”, for the sake of getting to feel what it’s like to be wild and happy, and _cool_ again. 

When Chaeyoung wakes up earlier that day feeling much, much better and more like a normal, functional human being again than a person carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, it’s to an empty room, some cold medicine, and a yellow post-it on the bedside table. On the piece of paper is a scribble of loops and hearts, and her mother’s name signed at the bottom. 

**_Drink your meds. Party @ 6pm. Go with Dahyun_ ** **_  
_ ** **_\- Nayeon_ **

Nothing much happens the entire day preceding Sana’s party. It’s a Saturday and Chaeyoung spends her entire day lazing in the dorm, preparing herself for the night. She gets ready for the party an hour before, not entirely sure exactly _how_ to prepare for the so-called “Party of the Year” therefore padding down the hall and deciding to seek help from the self-anointed Party God herself—

“Do I wear this or this?”

Chaeyoung lets a beat of silence ensue, averts her gaze between the two hangers held up before her and the solemn, firmly serious look on the blonde girl’s face. Honestly, Chaeyoung understands now why the title was self-proclaimed.

“That’s a school uniform, Dahyun.” 

“Okay, so this then.” Dahyun tosses her uniform behind her and holds up the sleeveless flapper dress over her body in front of the full-length mirror, seriously inspecting it before walking to the bathroom to change. 

Chaeyoung contains the urge to make a comment on Dahyun’s ostentatious choice of party clothing, but then remembers she’s in the 90s and has completely no idea how the party scene goes around here. 

“Is that what you’re going to wear?” Dahyun asks when she steps out of the bathroom in her flapper dress, eyeing Chaeyoung weirdly in all the glory of her knitted buttoned cardigan and mom jeans, as if the Gatsby dress didn’t _stand out_ oddly as well.

“Isn’t this what normal people wear?”

Dahyun plops down on the edge of Jihyo’s bed, bending to tie the lace of her strapped heels. “ _Boring_ normal people.” She corrects with a huff, “The ones who end up looking like drug dealers.”

Chaeyoung feigns an offended gasp in jest. “We're literally just going to be with Jihyo unnie and the others. There's no need to dress like we're showgirls in Vegas."

“Oh yeah, about that...” Dahyun trails off, holding down a snide remark at Chaeyoung’s choice of clothing. "Jihyo unnie won't come. She doesn't do parties." 

"What?" 

Dahyun stands up and walks over to the mirror again, looking at Chaeyoung through the reflection while uncapping her fruity roll-on lip gloss. "I think there's some rule where school presidents–or anyone with enough authority to get us locked up–aren't invited to wild house parties."

"But it's Jihyo unnie?" Chaeyoung can't fathom how _wild_ a party would be without the supervision of her aunt Jihyo, who’s literally the only reason every one of them are still alive. "She won't tell on us." 

"Yeah, but Jihyo unnie doesn't attend wild parties in general." Dahyun finishes her lip glossing with a pop, puckering her excessively shimmering lips and showing them off in a dramatic pout. "The wildest party she ever attended was her inauguration dinner. It was a formal event with caterers and even the principal was invited." 

"Where is she then?" Chaeyoung noticed the lack of her aunt's presence but overlooked it for probably another run at the library or an urgent student council meeting. "Is she really going to miss this one out?" 

"Truth be told she was actually considering showing up", Dahyun frowns, walking over to the emergency fanny pack they've prepared and labeled as the _Bro Bag._ "But the AV committee had an emergency with the talent show preparations and they couldn't contact the principal so now she has to sit Sana unnie's party out to meet up." 

Chaeyoung feels her throat bobble up and down with a wary gulp. If there's anyone who _should_ show up in the party to supervise at least, it should be Jihyo. Because with Jihyo nothing goes wrong–at least nothing substantial and potentially life-threatening. Chaeyoung can already foresee the chaotic storm of her aunt Sana's party. _Oh shit._

"But...we'll still be with Momo unnie and the others, right?" She doesn't even realize the quake in her voice, trembling with the uncertainty and caution.

"Sana unnie's going to be full-on host mode so you can count her out." Dahyun runs through the contents of their bro bag. _Vicks, mace, (as per Nayeon's instructions) Chaeyoung's cold medicine, and a pair of extra clothes._ "And considering this is a Minatozaki party, everyone's definitely going to be with their respective squads, Chae. Especially Jeongyeon unnie and Nayeon, since they're probably going to be the stars of the night and essentially, the good shepherds of their respective teams.” 

It’s not that Chaeyoung is complaining about being left alone with someone who’s dressed like a character in Great Gatsby–heck, she knows it’s _definitely_ going to be a wild, fun night because it’s with Dahyun–but it’s just that her self-preservation instincts are on a notch lately, knowing it’s July already and she didn’t do the calculations thoroughly enough to know the exact date she was conceived (for the sake of her mother’s privacy and her not _puking_ her guts out). Any given day she can get hit by a car or accidentally trip and hit her head, and then she’ll end up back in the present without being able to know if she changed anything or not.

_If I even get back to the present…_

By the time they leave the dorms, it’s already a quarter to six o’clock. Dahyun excuses her sluggish movements and indecisiveness (literally after her flapper dress, she changed about four more times–twice in a holiday-themed get-up and once in a full denim attire–before completely discarding the flapper for a black and white striped turtleneck tucked underneath a denim skirt, and a denim jacket for _charisma_ ) with a sheepish remark on being “fashionably late” because only _uncool people_ arrived early in house parties. 

When they do arrive, it’s already half past six o’clock and it takes about another five minutes to get past the line of manhandling teenagers trying to shove their ways into the palatial residence. 

When the _bros_ finally do get in, it takes about another minute for them to get their shits together. 

Never in a million years did Chaeyoung _ever_ expect her affectionate, almost-boring aunts to be _this_ _rad_ as teenagers. 

Sana Minatozaki’s party looked to be the high school equivalent of a Metallica concert, complete with strobes and party lights blaring from inside and teenagers dancing everywhere. Joan Jett and The Blackhearts’ I Love Rock n’ Roll is playing in bass-boosted, soul-rattling, ear-piercing stereo systems all around the house, reverberating even yards away from the residence itself. Chaeyoung can actually feel her heart dropping along the bass.

_So this is why everyone called it the Party of the Year…_

The last time Chaeyoung was here, the grandiose neoclassical mansion looked like the location of an expensive golf and country club where the most affluent families gathered to drink tea and boast around their latest bourgeoisie expeditions at. Now it just looked like an MTV Spring Break party with the force of a 1991 Metallica concert. 

It’s almost otherworldly for Chaeyoung to see so many teenagers actively communicating with one another and not dancing with their phones in front of their faces. _It’s definitely becoming the 90s now._

“With this many people, I don’t think we’ll even be able to get inside…” Chaeyoung gulps, wary of the lack of spatial distancing. If the people are already semi-crowding outside and it’s not even an hour into the start of the party, what more if they were already inside?

“Oh trust me on this, _bro_ ”, Dahyun wraps an arm around Chaeyoung’s shoulders and haphazardly pulls her close. “There are like, ten ways to get into this house.” 

Chaeyoung remembers the vague tour of the residence they’ve gotten before and how there’s probably more than three entrances to the house. She didn’t bring the idea up at the prospect of Dahyun having the same thought–probably use the door in the second kitchen or the the door in the garage–but Chaeyoung _really_ should have because then they wouldn’t be sneaking into canvas tents set up by the spacious patio, stealthily crawling underneath a long line of tables and deejay equipment.

“This is probably the worst—ow—idea you ever—ouch—had, bro!” Chaeyoung lets out a yelp and stops to take a look at her palms, etched with electric wire and plug blade markings. 

Dahyun looks over her shoulders and stops to wait for the miserable girl behind her. “Come on, we’re almost there!” 

Chaeyoung takes a _deep_ breath and summons all the energy left in her before continuing their crawling expedition. 

The change of hardwood into tile flooring and the sudden increase of the bass and music volume indicate their entrance into the mansion. When black tablecloth finally hits Dahyun’s face, she lets out a triumphant _Yes!_ before sliding the fabrics aside like show curtains and making their way into paradise—

“Excuse me?” Of course, paradise _after_ they get past the oddly beautiful slim calves getting through their way. Chaeyoung pokes her head through the curtains beside Dahyun’s, just in time to watch the blonde softly tap at the leg. “Can you move aside please?” 

Chaeyoung climatically follows the line of the slim calves, starting from white ballerina flats up to hem of a long white pleated skirt falling just a few inches above them, to the white buttoned polo tucked underneath a white belt, a varsity jacket draped around broad shoulders where wavy dark hair cascades down on, all belonging to what looks like a wandering princess lost in a wild house party—

“Mina unnie?” 

Dahyun shares the same gaping, awestruck reaction as Chaeyoung. 

“Dahyunnie?” The soft, mellow voice of the graceful beauty is no power for the intense party songs playing around, but Dahyun guesses Mina’s already shouting with that because she hears it perfectly despite their environment, and even hears it louden to a shriek when Chaeyoung’s head appears beside her. “Chaeyoungie?!”

Eventually, Mina steps aside to let the two younger girls get through. “What are you two doing?!”

“We should ask you the same!” Dahyun exclaims, puffing at her denim skirt to rid the dust sticking. “What are you doing here looking like a poorly-disguised princess?” 

Mina looks down at her attire and sheepishly shrugs her shoulders. “I didn’t know what to wear…?” She frowns a little and then subjects it to Chaeyoung who has yet to recover from her mind’s short-circuiting at the sight of her _aunt_ Mina’s breathtaking, unearthly beauty, staring at the older girl with eyes bawling out of their sockets and mouth hanging slightly ajar. 

“Chaeyoung, are you okay?” It takes Mina’s mellow voice to snap her out of her thoughts. 

“O-Oh! Unnie”, Chaeyoung lets out an awkward laugh. “Um, sorry. Was just thinking…” _Oh my god was aunt Mina really this pretty?_

Mina shrugs the weird behavior off and proceeds to question why the hell the two younger girls were crawling underneath tables, to which Dahyun persuasively answers with an altered account of her awful confident plan from earlier. 

Ultimately, Chaeyoung gathers up the courage to start a conversation with Mina ( _Chaeyoung, stop checking her out! She’s your aunt for god’s sake!_ ) and finds out Mina had joined the soccer team in arriving at the party a few minutes early to help set-up and introduce themselves to the host. Eventually, however, Jeongyeon had to excuse herself in order to meet a friend from the gates and Mina had soon lost Momo to the bustling crowd, hence her current state of isolation somewhere at, just as Dahyun and Chaeyoung realized it, the beverages tables at the end of the living room that is now void of any furniture, allowing more dance space for the crowd, away from the deejay booths set up at the far front where most of the socializing happens. To the contrary of their initial assumption, the party inside isn’t as crowded as the party’s outside energy implied. 

“How about Nayeon unnie?” Chaeyoung asks, wondering _where the hell is mom_. “Have you seen her?”

Everyone in the group could notice it _but_ themselves. There had been a substantial although subliminal change between the way Nayeon and Mina treated each other. No longer did they exchange sneers and passive-aggressive comments (on Mina’s end, subtly) but they were–more than once–seen talking and engaging in conversations (although formal at best and with a third person _always_ ) and Nayeon, more than few times, even smiled at Mina’s way during their practices. 

They weren’t _friends_ but they weren’t enemies too. 

“Nayeon? I don’t think so.” Mina shakes her head with a small frown. “But I did see her with the other cheerleaders earlier by the kitchen.” 

“Which one?” 

“The one where we went through before.” 

“Okay. Thank you, unnie!” Chaeyoung smiles before attempting to walk away. Key word: attempting. 

Dahyun holds her back with an alarmed frown. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m just going to look for unnie.”

“You’re going to get lost in there!”

Chaeyoung snorts. “I can handle this! I just...need to look for Nayeon unnie.” 

It takes a reassuring nod from Mina and a second of hesitation before Dahyun lets go with a defeated sigh. She’s barely coherent through Joan Jett and The Blackhearts’ Do You Wanna Touch blaring in the Panasonic stereo systems, but Chaeyoung perfectly hears it. 

“Don’t die out there, okay!?”

It’s meant to be something akin to a whimsical joke with sarcasm laced around it but Chaeyoung can feel, to a certain degree, the underlying concern and seriousness in Dahyun’s tone. It’s just that...the problem is...it feels like Chaeyoung should be the one telling it to Dahyun. 

“Dahyun, don’t go anywhere without me! Stay here!” Chaeyoung shouts amidst the intense music playing around them, her own version of Dahyun’s words. “Wait for me. Don’t go anywhere.” _Don’t die out there, okay?_

***

When Nayeon woke up that day, it was to Chaeyoung splayed like a starfish on the bed with one leg draped around her midriff, taking up a bigger portion of the crampy bed. Slowly and softly, the cheerleader sat up and stretched her arms out, and instinctively let her eyes search for the person she had been craving for the most, but when she turned to the other side of Chaeyoung’s bed, all that greeted her was an empty space. 

It felt like a part of her had been chipped out. Only a part. Nayeon held on to the hope that she’ll see Jeongyeon again–to the hope that Jeongyeon didn’t see anything past the moment Dohwan approached them. To the hope that Jeongyeon is okay and having a nice day, and after everything, will still come back to her. 

Nayeon left the dorm before Chaeyoung could wake up. The cheer squad would be going through their routine before heading to Sana’s party. In those hours Nayeon expected to see the soccer team gathering somewhere near, but even in school she didn’t see any trace of the athletic and usually rowdy girls. _No sign of Jeongyeon._

The cheer team arrived at the Minatozaki party just in time as the people began filling up. Their entrance had been, for a better comparison, like that of when Moses had split the red seas but with howling and animated applauses. Because Nayeon had been “in a mood”–Sana’s words–Jennie took the forefront and led the team’s entrance walk to their normal hangout spot in Sana’s house, the second floor living area.

When the squad dispersed to interact with other people in the party, Nayeon had been ultimately left alone with the party host. 

“You’ve been sad. What gives.” Sana was always more than what the others had prided her for. “Is this about Jennie leading the entrance? I told you guys it's really not a problem if—"

But Nayeon didn't really give a damn anymore. She wanted to see Jeongyeon. "Have you seen the soccer team?" 

" _Oh."_

Nayeon huffed bitterly. Right, _oh._

"One of our helpers mentioned a group of girls arriving to help before everyone else. Maybe that's them?" 

"Do you know where I can find them?" 

Of course, Sana didn't. She may be the host but she also deserved to get loose at times. That didn't stop Nayeon from excusing herself and looking though, determined to stop herself from crumbling into pieces at the lack of Jeongyeon.

Something about that night just didn't sit well with her.

***

Turns out moving around in a crowd when you're 159cm tall and everyone around you is at least 160cm and above, is much, _much_ harder doing alone than with help, and Chaeyoung kinda wishes she has the ability to retrace her steps and come back to where she left Dahyun and Mina, so that she can ask them for help and then the search for Nayeon or Jeongyeon–or _anyone_ who has an idea where they are–can be done more efficiently and faster. 

But _no_ , Chaeyoung gets lost in the crowd, like being eaten by the ground, and when she _is_ able to push through a group teenage girls dropping to DJ DOC's Run to You and boys dancing behind them, it's initially thanks to the help of a towering guy–around three Chaeyoung heads taller–with slim but muscular figure clad in jeans and a varsity jacket with... _oh, Yonsei. He's from Yonsei..._ and his face was perfectly symmetrical with soft, slightly western-like attractive features. For lack of a better term, Chaeyoung thinks he looks a little bit like the Korean counterpart of 90s Jared Leto. 

_Wow. For a second there, he kind of looks like…_

“Are you okay there, kid?” He asks, in all the glory of his Yonsei varsity jacket and his well-built upper body, and that smile. He flashes an attractive smile with an almost unnoticeable small dimple at right side of his—

“Hey, kid?” 

“O-Oh!” Chaeyoung shakes her head away from her _weird_ ponderings _._ “Y-Yes, sorry...um...thank you…? For that…”

The guy’s confused and weirded out face is replaced by the charismatic smile again. “No problem.” He shrugs off nonexistent dust on his varsity jacket. “Next time you look for someone, don’t go passing through the dancefloor. That’s where it gets really crunk.” 

“Crunk?” 

“Crazy And Drunk!” He chuckles, and Chaeyoung pushes down the urge to scowl at the guy’s sense of humor because then she remembers _yet again_ this is the 90s, and they have very comically weird slang. 

Instead, she looks at the odder side of the situation. “How’d you know I was looking for someone?” 

“Well, this isn’t exactly a party for a bunch of kids to loiter around at, so I assumed you had company and now you lost them?” 

_He’s not wrong. But he’s not right either._ “I’m looking for my unnie.” 

“Ah…” He trails off with a nod. He says something else, probably his name, but Chaeyoung doesn’t get to hear anything anymore when the song is changed into MC Hammer’s Can’t Touch This and the crowd initially erupts into louder ecstatic praises, beginning to perform the Hammer Dance in perfect sync like they’re a flash mob that rehearsed the song thousands of times. 

Chaeyoung would have stayed and watched the animated dancefloor but she isn’t familiar with the dance itself and still has some self-preservation skills inside of her, so she gets out of the way in a dash, eventually leaving the guy and losing him behind. 

_Ugh. Okay. On my own again then…_

***

It’s lightheartedly awkward whenever Dahyun’s around Mina. Awkward in a sense that they pretty much don’t have anything to talk about but light hearted because it’s all good, company with Mina is nice and warm despite the lack of talking. Dahyun, however, can’t _not_ talk right now, so she opens up a conversation. 

“Nice jacket, unnie!” She shouts amidst the blaring of MC Hammer’s U Can’t Touch This. “Where’d you get it from!?”

Mina can perfectly hear her even without the shouting, but she doesn’t want to complain. She moves closer a bit and leans into Dahyun’s ear, “It’s not mine.” She doesn’t shout but she does use a tone louder than her usual one. 

“Whose is it?! It’s a cool jacket!” Dahyun thinks the jacket goes well with Mina’s entire _first love_ fashion going on. A nice contrast to her elegant Princess vibes. 

“It’s Jeongyeon’s”, Mina smiles with a flush at her cheeks. 

Dahyun feels the squirming of emotions from the way Mina’s cheeks redden even under the flashing lights. _Wow._ “Are you two…” she doesn’t finish it, but compensates with her hands gesturing in between her and Mina. “You know…?”

It doesn’t seem to meet Mina’s thoughts entirely however, because all the golden-haired girl gets as a reply is a perplexed frown. 

“Like, you know! Dating!” Dahyun shouts. 

“Oh…” Mina trails off with a light, awkward laugh. “No. We’re just friends.” 

But Dahyun doesn’t hear that, isn’t able to anymore. Not when her heart feels like it’s getting ripped at the seams by the familiar and iconic, intensely heartfelt first few guitar chords playing in the stereo systems, an intro to her favorite song. _Oh my god._

_And I’d give up forever to touch you…_

_Cause I know that you feel my somehow…_

The song is a spiritual experience that takes her to nirvana, a transcendent state in which there is neither suffering, desire, nor sense of self; unaware of everything else around her. Unaware of when Mina disappears into the crowd, hand-in-hand with the very person someone else was looking for. Unaware that it’s _her_ Jeongyeon unnie storming away with steam coming out of her head, hands gripping tightly on Mina’s wrist, practically dragging her out of the crowd. 

When Dahyun opens her eyes, it’s to the instrumental break of the song, the crowd not as lively as it used to be, and to the sight of a girl standing up by the second floor railings looking down on the living space right at Dahyun’s direction but not entirely _at_ Dahyun, a red cup in her hand and a scowl on her face that–if Dahyun had 20/20 vision, she would’ve been able to confirm–looked akin to pain more than anger.

Dahyun waves her hand animatedly at Nayeon’s direction, but the older girl turns around and walks away before she could even see. 

_When everything’s meant to be broken…_

_I just want you to know who I am._

***

If pain could be seen on the surface of a person, everyone would have pitied Im Nayeon. 

If the breaking of hearts could be played for everyone to hear, they would be deafened by hers.

There’s a kind of jaggering pain inside of her, a weight that pulls her down and moves at her hand, forcing herself to chug down the remnants of rye in her cup like it’s water and she’s on her third day without one, starving and dehydrated. Like it’s there to save her. Like it exists to take her away from here. 

The entire day had been spent looking for Jeongyeon, craving for Jeongyeon’s touch, relying on the softness of her voice, on the warmth of her presence. Nayeon had agreed to throw everything away because Jeongyeon was it. She has to be it. 

_It’s her or no one else._

It just didn’t apply to the both of them, maybe. 

Everyone smiles at the sight of Nayeon passing down the second floor hallway and gracing them with her presence. Everyone wants her attention, seeks for the Queen Bitch in her complete form. Wants to see what everyone’s been so afraid of, been so amazed of, but Nayeon doesn’t show them anything. Doesn’t bat an eyelash at them. She needs _air._ She needs to _breathe._

_I can’t breathe._

Nayeon walks and walks, to anywhere her feet can lead her to. The second floor of Sana’s house is a maze waiting to be finished. Nayeon’s determined to finish it tonight—

“Woah there.” That is, until she collides into someone else. 

The voice is nice and soft, attractive and comforting in a way. Whatever surface Nayeon bumped into–more likely a buff chest underneath cotton fabric–lingers of a soothing wooden musk scent, something Nayeon is reminded of... _Jeongyeon._

Maybe it’s the alcohol–three fingers of Rye, _bitch_ –or maybe the exhaustion and the pain from walking around Sana Minatozaki’s mansion looking for one person in a sea of blissful strangers, wanting to be like them but not being able to because she’s _missing one person_ , only to see that person with someone else who loves them too, loves them probably _more_ , deserves them _more_ ( _I just needed one person.);_ whatever it is, it sends Nayeon crumbling down like a wall after a wrecking ball comes crashing in, after the storm has passed through and all that’s left is nothing but the casualties. 

_I just need one person._

Nayeon breaks down into someone else, lets her tears stain someone else, bares herself open to someone else.

_Someone that’s not her._

Her whimpering must have become too loud for this mighty stranger to decide in awkwardly patting her back, like what a stranger would to someone who just weirdly cried onto their shirt. 

“I’m not saying it’s okay because I know it’s not.” Says this stranger with a mellow voice that didn’t deserve to belong to someone who felt so well-built and muscular, someone who everybody else would assume only knew the physical kind of pain more than the internal one. “But would you want to take this outside? Everyone’s kind of looking…” 

And Nayeon really _really_ doesn’t care anymore. Everybody else wants to know her, wants to feel what being her feels like, but at the end of the day they wouldn’t be able to handle it. They won’t survive dealing with this much pain. 

They move in-sync and carefully, like Nayeon’s a child stepping on her father’s feet to learn how to dance. This stranger walks slowly and, as if sensing the unwanted attention, covers Nayeon with another kind fabric she only assumes would be a jacket. 

When her skin feels the gush of the night’s cold breeze and the muffling of the bass line, Nayeon gradually pulls away from the stranger she had been clinging on to unceremoniously and looks up to meet the eyes of whoever had witnessed her at her lowest. 

It’s a guy. Tall and big, with slightly disheveled hair from the wind, a face with western-like features, and a small, pitying smile tugging at his lips. His white shirt is now stained with Nayeon’s snot but he covers it with a Yonsei University varsity jacket. 

“I’m sorry about that.” Nayeon snorts, pointing at the ruined white shirt the guy ever so attempts to cover. 

“It’s okay.” He smiles and Nayeon notices, the small dimple on the right side of his cheek that flashes in a wink and is gone just as fast. 

When he clears his throat, Nayeon realizes she’s been spacing out. “O-Oh, sorry...um…” and out of courtesy, despite the fact that she’s just wiped her tears with the back of it, she stretches out her hand and offers a shake, “Im Nayeon, by the way. Thank you...for...colliding with me…?”

A chuckle escapes the guy’s lips. He takes her hand. “I think you have it the other way around?” 

Nayeon raises an intimidating brow but it can’t be taken seriously with the bloatedness of her face from the crying. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Nayeon.” Nayeon frowns but he only smiles at her back, “Son Dongwoon, at your service.” 

“You’re from Yonsei?” Nayeon’s eyes drift down on the wrinkled crest of the university on the sleeve of the jacket, folded and hanging on Dongwoon’s forearm. “College boy, huh. What are you doing at a high school party?” 

It only occurs on Nayeon where they are when she removes her eyes on the small dimple at the right of Dongwoon’s face, afraid to come out weird and shameless with her scrutinizing eyes. They’re on one of the _many_ balconies scattered around the Minatozaki mansion. This one is new to Nayeon and is found in the smaller and more secluded range of corbel balconies attached to the house. It’s displaying a view of the spacious backyard greenery occupied by dancing and socializing teenagers. 

From their place, everything seems to be more peaceful and serene. The French doors muffle out the sound of Goo Goo Dolls playing inside and they’re far enough from the crowd not to hear their chattering and laughter. 

For a moment there, the world is silent enough for Nayeon to hear her own heart breaking. 

“Word of Sana Minatozaki’s parties reach until university, Nayeon. We have mailing systems too.” 

Nayeon only forces herself to laugh. 

Back then, she was a prodigy at starting conversations and keeping them alive. Now it just feels like her entire mind is running on _Jeongyeon, Jeongyeon, Jeongyeon_ and without Jeongyeon, she doesn’t seem to feel like properly functioning anymore. 

Dongwoon must sense the awkward atmosphere because it brings him to gesture for the door. “I’m gonna go get some drinks? Would you want some?” 

But Nayeon _really_ can’t run on anything else but _Jeongyeon_ , and seeing the girl with someone else feels a lot like having her heart pulled out of her chest and her brain left hanging by the plug. Nothing makes sense anymore and it’s easier to revert to the old ways for self-preservation when Nayeon’s barely running on her rationality. 

“I don’t want drinks.”

Acting and functioning without any conscious thought of the consequences is a habit, a routine for Im Nayeon. 

“Do you have a car?” 

The only image in Nayeon’s mind now is Jeongyeon and Mina. And Jeongyeon holding Mina. And Mina looking so _fucking_ beautiful, it’s intoxicating. Nayeon is beautiful too–ethereal if she must–but somehow, all that she is will never be enough compared to _Mina_. 

“Oppa.” _Two can play at this game, Jeongyeon._ “Why don’t we get out of here?” 

_When you can’t seem to find your way anymore, it’s easier to fall back into your old habits._

  
  


***

(And just like that, their heaven comes to an end.)

***

“HE’S AN ASS, MINA! HE SAID ALL THOSE THINGS ABOUT NAYEON AND—”

But Mina couldn’t properly discern what Jeongyeon had been ranting about. They were shoving their way through the crowd, trying to get out. 

“Jeong, wait—ow!”

Mina can foresee a bad bruise around her wrist from the tight grip Jeongyeon has around it. She attempts to pull it back with all the force her alcohol-induced-frail body has, and though she does get to yank her hand back, it’s only because they’re outside of the mansion now, out in a part of the front yard that’s less crowded, and Jeongyeon almost forcefully lets her hand go. 

Mina rubs at her wrist. She can see the discoloration against her skin, shaped after Jeongyeon’s rigid hold around it. Mina hates it, the way her eyes feel compelled to well up at the trace of pain, so weak and enervated. She hates it more when she registers the twinging as a result of _not_ the bruise forming around her wrist against pale, milky skin, but of the realization of the person who inflicted it. 

_Jeongyeon..._

When Mina looks up at the girl, the words hanging on her lips, waiting to be said, whirls away along the night’s cold gust of wind. 

In front of Mina is a girl far from the Jeongyeon she knows. Far from wheezing laughters and full-front-row-teeth smiles, of _horrible_ jokes and _godawful_ gaming skills. This isn’t the _Jeongyeon_ Mina knows. The hunched form before Mina emanates an indiscernible burning atmosphere around her, like a volcano before an eruption, feverish heat rising to the surface. 

Despite it, Mina goes to her, crouches down at the side and _almost_ lays a finger on Jeongyeon’s shoulder. _Almost._

The furious voice broke the silence like a knife had been sliced through, followed by a guy with a group of boys behind him, futilely holding him back. 

“YOO JEONGYEON!”

Mina immediately recognizes who it is. _Nayeon’s boyfriend, Woo Dohwan._

bDespite the loud music echoing outside, the air felt like it was still around them and all Mina could hear was the tension and wrath in his tone. He was clad in cargo shorts and a stained shirt, moved sluggish and staggered in his steps. His voice didn’t fall short on publicizing his anger though. It’s there, unyielding and threatening. 

No one would have paid attention to a fight in a party. It was normal if not even fun and electrifying. But this involved Yoo Jeongyeon. Soccer star, girl crush, and Miss Perfect Yoo Jeongyeon. At the prospect of seeing someone so faultless get consumed by pure intimidating and alcohol-induced anger, suddenly it became a world-class show. 

“YOU DYKE! DOES THE ENTIRE SCHOOL KNOW THAT THEIR IM NAYEON IS—”

But Dohwan doesn’t even get to finish it, not when Jeongyeon charges at him like a mad bull seeing red, tackling him down to the ground with so much force, the crowd forming around them backs away. It’s as if Jeongyeon suddenly transformed into a cruel football tackle, holding the taller, more muscular guy down before striking him with a fist and then another, until there was blood and Mina couldn’t comprehend anything--not even _Jeongyeon_ –because suddenly there are people shouting and yelling around, and the main event became them.

***

Nayeon’s dragging Dongwoon by the arm, eager to escape everything. 

She would have noticed how almost no one pays attention to her brushing through the crowd with a boy in hand if only she didn’t let herself get navigated by her old habits. She would have even noticed that the dance floor wasn’t as crowded as when she overlooked the area nearly an hour ago. 

Nayeon doesn’t see anything else but the invisible red lights flashing in her eyes and the alarm bells going off inside her head. This is her reverting to her old ways. _The one before Jeongyeon came in._

She doesn’t even spare a single damn care when they pass by the front of the mansion that somehow holds almost the entire population of guests. There’s a crowd by the side, howling like mad spectators watching a fight. 

Nayeon doesn’t stop to take a look. She goes straight for her escape.

***

Jeongyeon would have kept going at it if only she didn’t feel her energy slowly slipping away. “DON’T YOU _EVER—_ ” When it feels like her last punch, Jeongyeon throws at it her hardest. “—SAY HER NAME EVER AGAIN!”

When the last strike is hit, the forceful anger seeping through her bones is exchanged with something entirely different, something raw and intense, all-encompassing and consuming. 

Jeongyeon falls to the side of Woo Dohwan’s limp and battered body, trembling. It’s only then she feels the pain, not from the bloodied knuckles or the numbness of her hand. She feels it raw, searing, and consuming inside, leaving her body in silent whimpering and trails of hot tears. 

***

Dahyun would have perfectly stayed in place if only her bladder didn't cry for salvation after two cups of beer and four glasses of soda, and a girl she vaguely recognized as one of the cuter freshmen, didn't compliment her attire, telling it deserved more than just being displayed at the quieter end of the party space, away from appreciation. Dahyun would have stayed rooted in her place but they were right. She went to this event to have fun and to witness the specialty of a Sana Minatozaki party. 

And besides, she _really_ needs to go to a lavatory now. Her muscles contract at the expense of preventing her bladder from creating what will be the most embarrassing moment in history and they can only do so much. Dahyun may be a woman of talent and extraordinary things, but holding back her pee ain't one of them.

She embarks on an adventure of a lifetime, navigating through sweaty bodies dancing to Baby V.O.X.'s new album, on to look for Chaeyoung her bro and some a safe haven for her near-erupting bladder.

There are about a hundred people dancing and partying inside–quite a decrease in what felt like a thousand a few minutes earlier–but it's still a maze-like experience and a challenge for someone who's only 5'2 and not-so gifted in the vision department. When Dahyun feels her muscles slowly quitting on her, plan b ends up being her last option left. 

_The second floor then._

Turns out the second floor is less crowded and easier to navigate through. It's just an endless carpeted corridor lined by beautiful-looking doors that Dahyun just needs to choose through meticulously and carefully for her to end up in a bathroom with a toilet and sink that's _not_ being used for... _certain inappropriate uses_...like the one downstairs that greeted Dahyun's poor innocent eyes with two girls pressed up against each other, one on the sink and the other standing in between her knees.

If Dahyun didn't care for her innocence enough to spare one more sexond— _second—_ to register the unholy sight, she would have totally assumed it was Sana and Momo unnie, with the cheer and soccer varsity jackets and the familiar sound of their voices—

 _Okay, okay...whoo!_ Dahyun wipes a nonexistent bead of sweat on her forehead. _Don't think of that now…_ She can't even breathe properly because one deep inhale feels like a stab at her anterior pelvic region, puncturing holes at her bladder. Instead Dahyun takes jagged, momentary breaths with both hands on her hip, looking like a woman in labor with her light accelerated breathing.

_Which door do I pick…_

With the minimized oxygen her slightly inebriated brain is barely functioning with, to choose the best option, Dahyun uses a half-assed filtration system. Most of the doors look entirely the same except for the glass french doors down at the end of the corridor, casting stained silhouettes of two figures, a boy and a girl, talking. _Okay, so not that one…_ Dahyun then moves to her last tactic.

_Eenie, meenie, miny, moe. Which door should I—_

"DAHYUN!" 

Dahyun doesn't even get to finish her words. For the third time in a span of two days, she's thrown into an excruciating hug, this one a little too untimely than the others. "BRO—"

"CHAEYOUNG! NO!" 

Dahyun can feel it, the burning desire for homeostasis. The floral hallway runners look too beautiful and maintained for Dahyun to succumb into the depths of her body's physiological processes and ruin it so, with all the remaining force in her body, she drags her body along with Chaeyoung's arms around it to the nearest door, pushing it open and then freeing herself from the girl's embrace.

_Oh my god. It's not a bathroom. AH!_

Chaeyoung only stands by the closed door, watching in aghast as Dahyun fumbles around one of the bedrooms–this one is relatively big in size (just like all the other rooms in a mansion would be), with beautiful warm white walls and a canopy bed in the center. There are picture frames of what looks to be aunt Sana's grandmother mounted on the walls...

"OH MY GOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING—"

To the absolute horror of Chaeyoung's entire existence, her eyes land on a sight underneath a gargantuan framed picture of the opulent-looking old lady, at a sight of Dahyun crouched down on a large indoor pot…

"CHAEYOUNG LOOK AWAY!"

And so Chaeyoung does, for self-preservation, look away and cover her ears in the process. She forces her eyes close and tries to telepathically talk her brain into erasing that _one_ picture embedding itself on the forefront of her mind. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…_

"Okay, I'm done…" Dahyun zips up the side of her denim skirt, standing up and carefully lifting the pot with her, towards Chaeyoung who almost immediately jumps away in horror and disgust.

"DID YOU JUST PEE ON—"

"THIS NEVER HAPPENED!" 

Chaeyoung's eyes fall on the fake indoor money tree planted in the pot. A shiver runs down in her spine after realizing how unlucky the fake money tree must be. "THROW THAT AWAY!"

"I WILL! STOP SHOUTING AT ME!"

" _YOU'RE_ SHOUTING AT ME!"

Dahyun moves closer and Chaeyoung ultimately falls backwards, landing on the carpeted floor with her butt, cowering away from the pot. 

"WELL STOP SHOUTING THEN!" Dahyun yells back. 

"I'M NOT SHOUTING! YOU STARTED IT! DON'T COME NEAR WITH THAT THING!" 

Dahyun lets out an exasperated huff, putting down the pot behind her, away from the appalled girl. "Can you stop shouting now, then?" 

Chaeyoung stumbles to a stand, puffing her knitted cardigan and her jeans. "Fine." 

Dahyun chugs down her urge to lend a helping hand. Chaeyoung's just going to end up shouting again and cowering away in disgust. She keeps her hands to herself. "What were you even doing running at me? I thought you were going to look for Nayeon unnie?"

"I was but I checked the entire first floor and the first half of the second floor but I couldn't find her anywhere." Truth be told, navigating around Chaeyoung's aunt Sana's _mansion_ looking for her mom is akin to trying to find an easter egg in a royal palace. It's almost, if not entirely, impossible to accomplish all by herself and in _one night._ "I tried to look for Sana unnie but I couldn't find her too…"

"Trust me, bro", Dahyun snorts, remembering what she had just explicitly seen a few minutes ago. "She's too _busy_ to help you out." 

"I can't say I can _trust_ you at the moment...” Chaeyoung narrows her eyes at the sheepish blonde. “I remember telling you to stay put and wait for me but guess where we are now."

In hindsight, she should have known Dahyun wouldn't _just_ wait for her to come back like a pup to its owner or a child to her mom. Chaeyoung can't bluntly tell the girl to stay put because she feels something bad's going to happen to her and she needs to prevent it at all cost. Dahyun's just going to end up thinking she's simply too intoxicated by the night's alcohol and lively spirit, she's blabbering absurd things. Frankly, all Chaeyoung wishes is to be able to split her body in half in order to be more productive at this mission. Or at least a little more energy. 

_I need to keep an eye on Dahyun while making sure nothing bad happens to mom and Jeongyeon unnie too. Honestly, can this night get more tiring?_

The rattling of the doorknob behind them startles both of the girls. It’s followed by some grunting and a guy’s voice whispering to his companion how they should look for another room. 

Chaeyoung only lets out a shudder at the wildness of unsupervised teenagers and how unfortunate those forced around them are, which eventually reminds her of the one she left behind nearly an hour ago. “Did you leave Mina unnie alone downstairs?” 

Dahyun fervently shakes her head, thankfully. “I was singing and then when I opened my eyes, she wasn’t there anymore. She must have gone somewhere…” 

“What should we do now then?” Frankly, Chaeyoung is running out of ideas on how to solve her current predicament. It’s a good thing Dahyun is here though. That’s one less heartbreak for her. “There’s this nagging feeling at me that something bad’s going to happen tonight.”

“Something bad _always_ happens without Jihyo unnie.” 

Chaeyoung can’t help but believe so too. 

“The first thing we should do now is…” Dahyun looks around the room and only then realizes the fact that they’re in Sana’s grandmother’s room. Her eyes _almost_ bawl out of their sockets. “Get out of here. Let’s get out of here. _Now_.” 

She pushes Chaeyoung out of the door and then returns to bring the indoor pot with her. Picking it up, Dahyun meets eyes with the portrait of Sana’s grandmother mounted on the wall, the affluent-looking woman sitting straightly with her hands on her lap, clad in something akin to Queen Elizabeth’s wardrobe, looking right into her _soul_ with disappointment.

Dahyun immediately runs out of the room barely able to see in front of her with the fake money tree taking up most of the view. Chaeyoung isn’t able to look at the poor fake plant without shuddering so she scatters her gaze anywhere _but_ the pot, ultimately landing on the french doors at the end of the hall, left open for the wind to blow through and into the house. _Weird...they should’ve closed the doors so that—_

“BRO! COME ON!” Chaeyoung’s thoughts are cut by Dahyun’s shouting. Eventually, they decide on the next necessary thing to do: hide the indoor pot away. 

“We’re gonna look weird walking around with a fake plant…” Chaeyoung sneers, helping Dahyun walk down the stairs as carefully and stealthily as they can–which isn’t much considering how the plant is nearly as tall as them and no one walks around a party with a fake plant—

“Oh, look!” Dahyun exclaims, peering her head beside the fake money tree. Chaeyoung looks over her shoulders–she’s carefully walking down backwards so as to make sure Dahyun _doesn’t_ trip–and sees the almost-empty living space she swore was as packed as a concert an hour earlier. 

“Is the party over?” Chaeyoung only gets to ask once they’ve already landed safely on the ground. The question is directed to Dahyun but somebody else answers for the golden-haired girl apparently busy apologizing to the plant. 

“The party’s moved outside! There’s a fight going on!” It’s an overly-energetic guy Chaeyoung doesn’t recognize, carrying a red cup of beer with him. 

Chaeyoung envies the burst of energy the strange drunk guy has. She can only wish for the same. “Should we go check it out?”

Despite the drunken stupor however, Chaeyoung feels the inclination to check the commotion out. It’s not for her desire to see someone else’s alcohol-induced emotional outburst, but rather... _just because._ There’s a feeling deep-rooted inside of Chaeyoung, like her “senses” tingling. She can’t quite explain what it is, doesn’t really have to, but even if she can, she doesn’t get to it anyway. 

Dahyun persists on finishing this first. “After we toss this away.” 

And so while everybody else is heading to the front yard of the house, the _bros_ head out to the back, somewhere away from the crowd. Away from trouble. 

_But why does it feel like I should be there?_

***

Eventually Mina finds the strength in her to take control of her two feet and walk over to Jeongyeon, the girl who’s _always_ carried her away from the world, protecting her from everyone and everything. This time, it’s Mina who wraps an arm around Jeongyeon’s shoulders and holds her close, pulls her up when it feels like her own two legs can’t, and whispers softly into her ear, “Let’s go home.” 

_Home._

All Jeongyeon can see in _home_ is her bed, and Nayeon’s presence, and then there’s Chaeyoung too. There’s Nayeon’s laughter thrown around the room, and her unconventional way of making things fall naturally into place, of making people feel loved.

When Mina holds her close, Jeongyeon feels like breaking again. When Mina smells like jasmines and everything nice, Jeongyeon feels like crumbling again. She hides her face into Mina’s shoulders.

Dohwan’s friends gather around his limp body and carry him out of the scene. One had the audacity to throw Jeongyeon an apology but the latter couldn’t see it, not when she’s covering her face away from the world, afraid to face the eyes boring holes into her, scrutinizing her as if they know her entire story. 

Jeongyeon won’t be able to do this alone. _Won’t be able to do it at all._

Not when the world suddenly becomes too scary for her to face by herself.

Not when, at the small space in between the people in the crowd gathering around them, she sees it. Nayeon’s figure holding somebody else, dragging someone else, away. 

Jeongyeon won’t be able to do this at all. 

_Not when Nayeon left again._

***

Son Dongwoon is perfect. 

He drives a BMW Coupe and has H.O.T.’s CD in his compartment. When they arrive at his apartment just a walking distance away from the beautiful Yonsei campus, Nayeon is met with an overlooking view of the beautiful night sky. On the shelves around his place are encyclopedias and bible-thick books on liberal arts and business studies. Mounted on the walls are pictures of friends, of soccer teammates, of beautiful art pieces and paintings all by his own creation.

In between the feverish kisses they share, she finds out he’s the only son to an oil magnate and his former beauty queen wife. His light touches reflect the sincerity and gentleness in him, of the artistic child that hid behind the shadows of the _perfect son_. His control in things is subtle but present, like the football star in him, Yonsei’s very own prized winger and their youngest soccer captain ever. 

Son Dongwoon is perfect. 

So when he asks if he can under the glistening moonlight, Nayeon looks into his soft eyes and renders herself defenseless. He treats her with light movements and gentleness, like she’s some sort of prized art to be handled with utmost care. He takes it slow and makes everything feel like the calm after the storm, the tranquility after the surge. 

Son Dongwoon is everything Nayeon could ever want and wish for in life, but when he falls beside her and embraces her through the night, she only realizes then. Everything’s close to heaven but not entirely there. Because Son Dongwoon is _perfect—_ but he’s not _Yoo Jeongyeon._

***

So maybe the reason why the universe decided to have Chaeyoung end up finding Dahyun instead of the others is because Dahyun _needed_ her the most, is because Dahyun was more inclined to unintentionally put herself at risk than the others. Because Dahyun’s basic instinct of self-preservation may be insurmountable but it’s pint-sized at best when it comes to putting into actual practice. 

It could be that it’s just the alcohol in the golden-haired girl’s system after she had decided drinking two more cups of _beer_ is the good way to go, or the sudden burst of _her_ energy after they had just successfully hid the pot away somewhere in the one of the gardens at the backyard of Sana’s house, acting as stealthy as they can and putting _James Bond_ himself to shame (Dahyun’s words, not hers), but whatever it is, Chaeyoung can’t level the same amount of vigor as the upbeat girl and finds it harder for her to chase Dahyun around like a babysitter than how she anticipated to be. 

That being the case, the more sober one decides for the both of them, the conclusion of her futile pursuit for either her mother or Jeongyeon, and for the sake of lessening the chances of losing Dahyun within the remaining hours, the safer option is to just go back to the dorms and call it a night. Staying at Sana’s house is not an option for many reasons, including the possibility that her parents might come back tomorrow and honestly, Chaeyoung doesn’t want to deal with a hungover Dahyun more than anything else. And besides, they can’t even find Sana herself. It’s like she just evaporated into thin air or something.

Dahyun, of course, is the least happy about the decision. She complains in all the glory of her alcohol-induced staggering and sluggish movements, clinging on to Chaeyoung’s smaller body like a panda as they make their way down the street glistening underneath the moon, listening as the songs from Sana’s party gradually fade away until it’s just a muffled base line left. 

Dahyun continues to fight against Chaeyoung’s hold–even goes to the length of feigning a cry for help (“This is kidnapping! I AM BEING KIDNAPPED!”)–but there’s no one walking down the quiet neighborhood street anymore but them and even if there was, no one would believe someone as _small_ as Chaeyoung could kidnap someone who flails like an eagle like Dahyun does with her arms. 

“ _Bro_ , we’re almost there…” Chaeyoung sighs as they arrive at the end of the street connecting to the bustling main avenue like a beacon of hope. “Stop moving too much—”

“BRO!” Also, drunk Dahyun is ten times louder than she normally is (and normal is already _loud_ loud), so when she literally _screams_ into Chaeyoung’s ear, the latter flinches away and lets go of the girl to press at her ears. 

It takes about a split second for everything to happen, not quite how everyone would assume it’d take. Chaeyoung didn’t even close her eyes for more than a few seconds. 

The next series of events unfold in slow motion. 

Across the street, Chaeyoung sees the distorted figure of Jeongyeon and Mina walking, the latter with her arms around the soccer captain. Dahyun must have seen them too because she’s running over to them now with no heed whatsoever. 

Chaeyoung doesn’t get to focus on Mina and Jeongyeon much. Her eyes shift to three directions at a time.

In front.

At Dahyun. 

And at the car approaching her. 

Chaeyoung doesn’t get to focus on anything else much after that. The last thing she shouts is Dahyun’s name before she runs over as fast as she can and stands in between Dahyun and her impending death.

***

(It’s some time around four in the morning when Nayeon sneaks back to the dorm. Dongwoon’s asleep when she left him a _thank you_ note on his bedside table, just beside the framed drawing of a beautiful white heather flower. 

She anticipated dealing with Jeongyeon back at the room, probably drunk or, come to think of it, not even there at all. _She’s probably at Mina’s._

When she gets back to the dorm, however, a cold, empty room is what greets her instead.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd like to say thank you to everyone who's been patiently reading this story huhu. i don't even know what to say. writing this made me speechless kjhfjks i feel like my brain and my heart got crushed by this. jkfhdg
> 
> thank you everyone. for your endless support. this isn't the end yet!! i just wanted to let you all know i always read whatever u guys have to say about this, and i might not reply to everything, but i LOVE EVERY BIT OF THEM :(( i love how you guys think this fic is good because it really does mean SO MUCH to me. 
> 
> so, again, thank u everyone. just keep holdin on!


	13. this is where it ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their heaven felt like it ended so shortly before it began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title does not mean entirely what it does mean HAHA when i said plans had changed, i meant i had to tweak a few things. 
> 
> good luck reading. THIS IS A ROLLERCOASTER ONE.

The first thing Nayeon does is take a shower. 

As nails scrape against moist skin, water running down disheveled hair and an exhausted body, Nayeon can’t help but let out a resigned sigh. The three walls and the curtain feel suffocating, as if they’re pushing her to the corner of the shower room. Under the warmth that envelopes her body, the towel wrapped around her torso, she steps out and finds herself staring at the mirror, looking for the person she wants to see but doesn’t find. 

Every movement is followed by a heavy pang of guilt sitting on Nayeon’s chest, of the realization that she had just done something she can never undo. The weight of her mistake consumes her insides like a chemical destroying her until all that’s left is the shell of a mobile, destructive force of nature damaging anything and anyone at her wake. 

The only thing Nayeon does best is ruin the people she loves. 

The silence of the room gets to her and picks at her skin, like a chisel on marble trying to carve a sculpture but instead this time, it’s at Nayeon, trying to tear her into pieces. It feels like tidal waves swallowing her alive, drowning into an abyss of darkness and coldness. 

Nayeon wouldn’t have seen the light of the day if it weren’t for the person marching inside the room right at the perfect timing, pulling her to safe ground for what felt like every single moment she ever found herself at the edge of the cliff. 

“You’re coming with me.” Jihyo is in her pajamas, hair tied up in a messy ponytail, phone in hand while her keys dangle around her finger with its My Melody keychain. “Get dressed. We still need to get a cab.” 

There’s not enough energy left inside Nayeon for her to cough out questions like why or where they’re going at four in the morning. She takes a hold of her favorite hoodie haphazardly lying on the edge of the bed, unintentionally knocking over a stack of envelopes along with it, and pulls it over herself. With a deep breath, she forces herself up and allows Jihyo to drag her away, out to brave the dawn’s haze and the cold breeze piercing through the worn-out fabric of Jeongyeon’s soccer team hoodie. 

***

“Aren’t you going to ask where we’re going and why we’re going there?” 

As if all the stars had lined up perfectly this one time for Jihyo, the ride falls pin-drop silent and the only background music to her words are the white noise coming from the radio, the sound of raindrops dancing on the taxi’s roof and tap-dancing on the asphalt road of the dim street they pass through, and Nayeon’s labored breathing against her shoulder, head peaceful at rest on it. 

“What happened?” The question leaves Nayeon’s lips in a soft and mellow whisper, quite dull and nonchalant and a little forced out. She remains quietly sifting through her thoughts, staring out the front window at how the streets are empty and lifeless, and how the clouds are an icy shade of grey with hues of subdued orange, as if torn between wanting a beautiful sunrise and getting caught in the storm clouds. 

“Mina called from the hospital.” Jihyo remembers her phone’s obnoxious ringing just as she had _finally_ caught the whiff of sleep after tossing and turning on her bed an hour after her return, and numerous efforts of stuffing down the uncomfortable churning in her stomach that’s been keeping her up. 

Something felt _off,_ like a weird, fluttering feeling that had her insides all tickly but not the good kind. It was more like a plastic fork stabbing at her. It was the pain of her intuition telling her something _was_ off. And then she got Mina’s call. 

“Dahyun and Chaeyoung got themselves in trouble.” 

In hindsight, Jihyo really should have considered at least paying a short visit at Sana’s party, just to make sure everything was okay. Her meet-up with Mingyu and a few members of the AV Committee didn’t even last for more than two hours because Mingyu was feeling especially eager to finish everything then and there. Jihyo _would_ have paid a visit to the Party of the Year, but on her ride home, just as the bus was about to pass the stoplight and the turn to Sana’s street, her entire body felt attached to the seat, as if there was a magnetic force holding her down. 

The bus stopped by the red light and Jihyo had sixty seconds to decide whether she’d get off and check out the party or stay in her seat and go home. She had sixty seconds to decide whether she’d let her gut feeling take over her and check if Dahyun and Chaeyoung are doing okay in their first Sana Minatozaki party, or sit this one down and, for once, let the world move its own pace without her trying so hard to make sure everything’s not falling apart.

The churning in her stomach is there. It’s like her brain telling her to do something but her body stays rooted in her seat. It’s like the universe is all together telling Jihyo something will happen but she shouldn’t do anything about it. As if for once, she should _not_ be the Park Jihyo that’s always trying to hold everything in place, trying to pick up the pieces of everyone’s mess and put it back together on her own. 

It’s the universe telling her: _Jihyo_ , _for once, stop trying to save everyone._

And so Jihyo doesn’t. Sixty seconds finish, the lights turn green, and she silently watches by the window of her seat as the bus passes the street until it’s out of sight. 

The one time she decides not to do anything, the one time she decides against her gut feeling, the universe turns its back against her. 

“Shouldn’t we tell Yumama about this?” 

Jihyo can hear and feel Nayeon’s breath hitch against the fabric on her shoulder. Somewhere on her lap she reaches for the cold fingertips hiding underneath loose hoodie sleeves. She holds it tight with her own warm ones. 

“Mina said it was just a minor accident with a few gashes. Dahyun’s parents were already talking to the doctors.” 

And somehow, her words feel like assurance for more of her own guilt than Nayeon’s. As if the only person she is trying to convince here is herself. Probably because it is just herself feeling responsible for the universe’s lapses. Because if Jihyo _just_ didn’t chug down her intuition, she would have probably prevented unlikely things from happening and the two younger girls wouldn’t have been hurt. Because if she _just_ didn’t let the universe sit her down _this one time_ , everything wouldn’t have fallen onto Mina’s hands. 

Because then, Nayeon wouldn’t be so uncharacteristically silent beside her, unable to respond when she asks her why she came back to the dorm without the others. 

If she just _didn't_ let herself be deceived so easily then she wouldn’t be in a cab driving to the nearest hospital, with an unusually-silent Nayeon and striking colors of sadness painted all over her face; then, Jihyo wouldn’t be feeling this _god awful_ churning in her stomach at the prospect of meeting Dahyun’s parents for the first time under such horrible and reckless circumstances, unable to formulate an apology for choosing to be selfish this one night and in result, risking their daughter’s life. 

Because if Jihyo wasn’t just so _selfish_ this one time, this _one fucking night_ , the world wouldn’t be feeling like it’s falling apart right in front of their very own eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” Because then, Nayeon wouldn’t be the one asking that question to _her_ and not the other way around, and Jihyo wouldn’t be answering with a long resigned sigh, unable to look at her own best friend in the eyes because of the guilt cascading all over her. 

Nayeon’s heart lurches at the sound of the two younger girls getting hurt, her insides recoil when she realizes Mina’s there (and, because she’s there, Jeongyeon is too), but most of all, her world feels like it’s crumbling to pieces when even Jihyo is unable to tell her what’s wrong. For that would only mean _everything is_ , and no power in the universe–not even Jihyo’s–can hold it back into place. 

“I feel useless...” That’s Jihyo’s answer for the lack of better terms. “Because I wasn’t there to at least help Mina make sure everything was under control.” 

Nayeon sets aside the alarm bells ringing in her head when she hears the mention of Mina’s name, and decides to look at the bigger and more important picture here. “It’s not your job to do that, Jihyo. No one knew it would happen so you shouldn’t feel bad for being unable to prevent it.” 

“But I just…” How can you tell anyone you feel responsible for every little thing? If Jihyo could have done something but didn’t, then it was a mistake on her part. “We all wouldn’t be here if I just decided to go to the stupid party.” 

“But you _didn’t_ want to and that’s not your fault.” Nayeon holds up their interlaced fingers and hugs it closer to her chest. “You’ve done _so much_ just to make sure everything doesn’t fall apart, Jihyo. You should stop blaming yourself for the one time you decided to take a rest.” 

It’s _always_ an usual feeling when it’s Nayeon who makes sure Jihyo realizes things, realizes that the world’s load isn’t hers to carry all by herself. Nayeon had always unknowingly put it on her own to remind Jihyo once in a while, _she’s human too._ They all were. Humans capable of all kinds of emotions that drive them to hysteria. Jihyo shouldn’t blame herself for being human. 

“What about you?” 

Of course, if Nayeon is capable of comprehending Jihyo’s own turmoil, Jihyo reads through the destruction inside of her without any difficulty too, having mastered the art of Im Nayeon’s internal storms even with just a resigned sigh or a hitched breath. 

Jihyo knows Nayeon like the back of her hand and with her, Nayeon knows hiding anything is a hopeless effort. 

“Why did you come back without the others?”

As strong as Nayeon prides herself to be, overcoming a lonely childhood without the presence of any parent, growing up with a grandmother who could barely remember her name, building up the highest walls around herself to protect her from the universe’s ruthlessness, everything–and _everyone–_ just had a way of breaking even at their strongest point. 

Jihyo asks her what’s wrong and what’s her silence for, and all Nayeon gets to answer with is a crack in her voice when she finally comes to terms with it, the stone that killed Goliath.

“I think...I _love_ Jeongyeon.”

Never in a million years did Nayeon ever think she would become fully aware of the whirlwind that was the state of her mind whenever Yoo Jeongyeon was around, on the backseat of a taxi car, to a white noise background, with her head on Jihyo’s shoulder, words spilling out of her mouth as if they were acid in her stomach just waiting to be heaved out. 

In the midst of her heavily enclosed chasm of all-consuming sadness and regret, Nayeon hears Jihyo’s soft response to her realization, ever-so comforting and soft and everything that could calm the waters in the surge of tidal waves that were Nayeon’s emotions. 

“Nayeon…” Jihyo runs her fingers through disheveled hair and, like the ghostly touch of a spring day's breeze, presses a soft kiss on the crown of Nayeon’s head. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

In contrast to how their situations looked, Nayeon was always the better one in language and in words Jihyo knows Nayeon is very much particular with her words and puts a significant amount of importance in choosing which to use. It posed to be the reason why in Nayeon's entire relationship with Woo Dohwan, Jihyo's never heard the girl return his _I love you_ back. 

So when Nayeon cries into her shoulder and tells her what’s been bothering her all night, what’s been the root of her silence and her internal turmoil, Jihyo can’t help but to hold back a soft relieved sigh because _oh my god_ , _finally it didn't’ take you an entire lifetime to realize_.

“There is.” Nayeon sniffs, wipes the sleeve of Jeongyeon’s hoodie on her nose, “Mina likes Jeongyeon too and I think...I think Jeongyeon likes her back.” 

Jihyo actually pulls back at that, startling the head peacefully resting on her shoulder. "Are you serious?" She eyes Nayeon with an incredulous look, brows dipping in a frown. She didn't mean the bitter reaction. She’s just as taken aback as Nayeon is when it comes out. 

“What the heck made you say that?!”

To be frank, Jihyo knows the answer to her own question. The moment Mina Myoui joined the group involuntarily and met Yoo Jeongyeon, everyone knew something would happen–or at least, a blossoming romance would be an option given Nayeon won’t know about it. But she did, and she _sure as hell_ crossed that option out of the discussion for Jeongyeon. When Nayeon did what she did to Mina, nobody expected the latter to stay by Jeongyeon’s side through everything but Mina did nevertheless, even if staying meant being the receiving end of Im Nayeon’s endless wrath and torment. 

In Nayeon’s eyes, _Miss Perfect_ Mina Myoui would be her most challenging contender yet. Little did Nayeon know, there was never really a competition against Mina in the first place. 

“Nayeon, you still can’t see it, can you?” Nayeon mirrors the exact same frown on her best friend’s face albeit hers leaning more to the uncertainty than the frustration of being so clueless. Under the passing lights reflecting through the windows, Jihyo sees it. The vulnerability. _This_ is the real Nayeon the world never gets to see. 

“Mina likes Jeongyeon but she never did anything to it.” _She could have but she didn’t._ “She had all the chance to but she stayed still because she _knew_ Jeongyeon’s heart was only capable of loving you. Because she _knew_ that you two couldn’t exist in a world that didn’t have each other in it.” 

_Why can’t you see that, Nayeon?_

All of a sudden, looking into the silhouette of Jihyo’s figure is harder than looking directly at the sun. Suddenly, Nayeon feels like a child caught red-handed trying to get away from trouble. In a flash, Nayeon’s back to being the girl she tried _so hard_ to escape from and leave behind. The vulnerable one, flaws bare for everyone to see. 

“Nayeon, the only competition you had here was with yourself.” 

There’s a pain in trying to tell someone the shattering kind of truth. When you know their story and the things they’ve been through, and saw the smiles they’ve shown at their highest and the heard the cries they’ve let out at their lowest. There’s a pain in trying to tell someone the truth because that would mean existing in their world only to be the character that pulls them down from their happiness. 

“You have to realize that, Nayeon.” Jihyo searches for Nayeon’s hand and holds it with her own. She looks into a mist of tears. “The more you spend your time fighting the universe for everything, the more chance you lose to actually beat it. Especially now.” 

Jihyo has seen Nayeon from the very first time they met in middle school. They’ve shared everything and worked through all the hell they’ve been through together, never leaving the other behind. They have went from possessing just about any merchandise available in best friend duos (Hello Kitty and My Melody, Daphne and Velma, Minnie and Daisy–name it, they _probably_ bought in and stashed in away), to choosing the local university against SNU (for Jihyo) and Korean University (for Nayeon) just so they can stay together. 

Jihyo didn’t join any athletic team because she believed she already had her _home team_ with Nayeon (and because she was already exceeding the amount of extracurriculars allowed for one student). 

In an unconventional and rather frowned-upon dynamic between Nayeon and Jihyo, wherever one would go, the other would _always_ follow. 

That’s why when Nayeon’s brows dip lower and a tear drops to stain her (Jeongyeon’s) hoodie, Jihyo _knows_ Nayeon’s uncertainty stirs along the churning in her stomach, the wariness from the last two words in Jihyo’s lines.

“What do you mean _especially now_?”

But Jihyo never really gets to saying it and only dwells in the way memories of her meeting with Mingyu flashes in her mind like a thunderstorm in an otherwise solemn night after the rain. She doesn’t get to say it because the taxi stops at the Accident and Emergency Department entrance of the hospital and the driver informs them of their arrival, ultimately breaking the cloud of their conversation. 

Nayeon looks at her for a second longer, as if trying to choose between staying to wait for the answer or stepping out of the cab to save their driver the headache of 24-hour shifts. Jihyo takes the all too familiar look as the same one she had on when she was deciding between staying rooted on her seat or getting off the bus to pay Sana’s party a visit. 

She and Nayeon must _really_ be the best of friends because they’re choosing to make the same mistake twice. 

Because just like how Jihyo decided to stay in her seat and let the street pass by even with her gut telling her to get off the bus, Nayeon decides to slide over to her side and get out of the taxi, not stopping any second to hear Jihyo’s words anymore. Naturally, the decision looks all too familiar in Jihyo’s eyes, Nayeon’s movements are clockwork to her. _She’s running away again._

Jihyo won’t let the same mistake happen again. 

She doesn’t– _won't_ –let Nayeon run away from _this_ again. 

(Not when _this_ involves Jeongyeon and what would potentially be the end of them— _if Nayeon lets it to be_ )

***

(The arcade at Deux closes before 6PM in order to accommodate the customers at the diner without having them suffer the incomprehensible aggravation the game machines brought to unrestrained teenagers. As much as Jihyo didn’t like the atmosphere of the place personally, given her only memories of the place didn’t sit well with her, their food was always talk-of-the-town and her company deciding to hold their meet-up here wasn’t that much of a bother on her part anymore. Besides, everybody else she knew always had good words for the diner’s food. She might as well see how it’s become better now than it was before. 

For tonight, Jihyo gives up the girls’ company for Kang Daniel, one of the AV Committee seniors. They take a table by the moisture-laden glass windows, allowing them a solemn view of the shimmering asphalt road and the lone public school in town and its small new building just across the diner.

“What’s their bestseller here?” Jihyo looks through the A4 menu taped on the table. In front of her sits Daniel who’s already got his eyes fixed on the screen of his weird-looking Toshiba laptop. Nevertheless, he replies, “Milkshakes, sunbae.” 

He spares her the effort and holds his hand up for a waiter to serve them. They order their milkshakes and some fries for Jihyo, and only begin talking about the AV Committee’s concerns after their respective orders have arrived. 

It’s really not much of a _concern_ per se. Daniel met up with Jihyo in Mingyu’s place because the latter had to attend a book party–which Jihyo just _knew_ was a code name for Sana’s Party of the Year. Although Jihyo had expected the _worst case scenario–_ say, Mingyu lost all footage and had to film the entire AVP again), what greeted her was just a minor inconvenience. 

“We couldn’t get any video from the soccer coaches, that's why Mingyu just added random clips to reach the quota from Principal Park…” Daniel turns his laptop screen to face Jihyo and presses the play button with his mouse to show the product of the AV committee’s hard work, a video tribute to the most memorable moments of the Apgujeong High’s Batch 1999 graduating seniors. 

Although the song is still subject for debate–“Seriously? Don’t You Forget About Me?”–Jihyo can’t help but watch through misty eyes because it’s really hard to look back on your high school years, of all the memories shared and the blissful youth and recklessness, without at least the emotional realization all welling up. 

The realization that _this is it_ , this is probably the last time she’ll ever be able to see all of her schoolmates again before they all disperse and move on with their lives. Most of them are on to greater heights, moving to far countries or enrolling to bigger universities–Sana and Momo were headed for Seoul National University while Mina eyed the National University of Arts–and some decided to lay low, stay within the quiet suburbs of Seoul’s outskirts, enrolling in smaller universities–Jihyo and Nayeon were already planning on reserving their spots for the community college at the neighboring town. 

If it weren’t for the background music, Jihyo would have completely bawled her eyes out. 

If she could wish for something to stay forever, it would be the youthfulness that high school brought. Although the future looked promising for each one of them, an aching feeling inside of Jihyo fears for the prospect of losing the familiarity of the people around her. 

In a few months, her days would lose the playful arguments with Jeongyeon about the most trivial things. She won’t be spending a portion of her waking breath admiring Mina’s quiet strength and gracefulness wishing she could have the same. She won’t be able to discreetly ridicule Sana and Momo’s hopeless attempts at hiding their secret _whatever_ from the group. In a few months, she won’t be having muscle cramps anymore from all the times she’s spent laughing her ass off at Dahyun and Chaeyoung’s _bro_ antics. 

In a few months, everyone would be saying goodbye to each other, leaving everything to the hopes of when the waves will let them wash upon the same shore again. 

Jihyo wipes a tear away, embarrassed for being unable to hold it in in front of a stranger. “Um, sorry...just, it got overwhelming…” 

Daniel, however, politely nods with a small chuckle. “It’s okay. I understand.” The video comes to an end and he turns the laptop back to himself. “Not everyone’s staying for long and some are even moving far away. It must be really hard on you and your friends.” 

Jihyo is just about to agree with that because _yes_ , it’s really hard on them especially now. Just when their group seemed to finally fall in place, just when everyone wasn’t killing each other half of the time anymore, the universe decides it’s time to move on with their lives. It’s almost like getting a taste of happiness but it’s already too late, there’s nothing left on the plate anymore.

Jihyo is just about to agree because _yes, Daniel_ , it’s especially hard on them now, but then Daniel goes on to say something else and Jihyo loses any semblance with her thoughts, somehow finds her brain short-circuiting. 

“What did you just say?” 

Daniel’s head perks up from his laptop at the caught-off-guard tone of the girl in front of him. He retraces his words and carefully repeats, “Um...it must be hard on you and your friends…?” 

“After that.” 

“Uh…” he scratches at the back of his head, cheeks flushing at the sudden gravity between them. “The one about Jeongyeon?” 

Jihyo nods her head fervently. “What did Mingyu tell you?”

“The soccer coaches have been busy the entire month because it’s scouting season and—”

“The one about Jeongyeon…”

“That she accepted the scholarship to Stanford…?” 

The entire world feels like it’s moving in slow-motion. Nothing else seems to matter at that moment. Daniel frowns at her in a way his mind must be telling him to, because Jihyo drops the fork on the table, clanging and startling, and actually falls back on her seat with a drawn-out sign, staring at the nothingness with her mouth hanging ajar, as if she’s just heard earth-shattering news. 

_Because it probably is._

The soccer coaches have been busy the entire month because it was scouting season and everyone was eyeing the girls’ soccer team captain, offering her full-time scholarships from every direction. Nobody could grab a hold of the management team because they handled the admissions and the scouting offers, and Yoo Jeongyeon’s profile was overflowing with college proposals and scholarship overtures that they even began mailing everything over to the dorm. It was a nuisance at the very least until Jeongyeon finally caught wind of Stanford Cardinal women's soccer team and their full-time offer, and her family, for the first time in her entire life, looked at her soccer career as if it was the greatest blessing on earth. They agreed to it before she could even, and now time is just counting down until Yoo Jeongyeon leaves after graduation. 

“Jeongyeon’s leaving?” 

It leaves Jihyo’s lips as an effort to convince herself but ultimately failing so. It’s no surprise that Jeongyeon _is_ leaving, given how Jihyo already anticipated everyone to go their own ways after high school. Life went that way. Not everything can stay the way you want them to be forever. It’s just that...Jihyo didn’t expect Jeongyeon to go so far away. 

At this time and age, nothing could guarantee them their friendship anymore. Sure there was technology. Sure there was snail mail. But still. Life could get in between anything, and their worlds didn’t revolve around _only_ their friendships. Jeongyeon would become busy, would work harder than anyone to adapt into such a new environment; She would meet new people along the way and decide she’s met better ones there; And then she would gradually stop communicating with them until there’s nothing left and they don’t talk anymore. They’re not best friends anymore. They’re nothing anymore. 

Jihyo can already feel the imminent heartbreak inside of her, slowly coming into view…

And then she sees Nayeon. 

And thinks of how this will _all_ be the hardest on _her_ the most. Because just when she gathered the courage to surrender to her emotions, to realize her feelings after _so many years_ of being with Jeongyeon, _after so many years of trying to hide it away,_ the universe decides this is not going to be a love story with a happy ending. 

Jihyo’s heart crumbles entirely then and there.) 

***

When Nayeon and Jihyo finally come across the Accident and Emergency department, looking for the girls becomes an easier quest. The area is almost empty apart from two other dudes talking loudly enough to qualify them as drunkards. The beds scattered around are unoccupied and separated by curtain dividers all pushed idly to one side, with each space having its own single waiting chair by the bedside. 

Nayeon sees the bright sunshine-haired girl first, sticking out of the essentially dull and white, bleach-undertone room like a sore thumb. Dahyun is lying on the partially-inclined hospital bed, inebriated in her medicine-induced high. The cot beside hers looks occupied with its disheveled blankets and dipped pillows, but whoever is occupying it is nowhere in sight. Between the two beds lies a space with the curtains drawn back and a single sofa chair occupied by one Mina Myoui, still clad in her angelic white dress Nayeon vividly remembers seeing her waltz around in during the party. 

It takes about a tenfold of Nayeon’s energy to hold back the lurching in her throat. Jihyo finally catches up beside her and moves forward, speaking up first. 

“Dahyunnie?” 

Two heads perk up at the mellow and trembling voice. Mina’s eyes are downcast and exhausted, a dark and gloomy contrast against her pale flawless skin. Her brows furrow and raise, and her eyes squint at the voice, as if she’s trying to adjust her vision.

It’s Dahyun’s guttural and exhausted voice that recognizes the two older girls first. “Unnie?”

Nayeon doesn’t understand how or what it is but there’s a constricting pain in her chest upon hearing the naturally-bright girl’s now worn-out and raspy voice. The concern is the only thing that gets her mind out of the vivid and tormenting memory of seeing Mina and Jeongyeon together, playing like a broken record inside her head.

“Are you okay, kid? What happened?” Nayeon rushes to the other side of Dahyun’s bed, plopping down on the space beside the younger girl to be able to get a closer view of the physical repercussions from whatever trouble they got themselves into. 

Dahyun tells her she doesn’t remember any before her voice cracks and a pounding ache shoots through her head from the medicine they had her drink. Both Nayeon and Jihyo feel incredibly worried for the younger girl. Her entire world must feel like they’re all falling on her at that moment. It’s Mina who ends up briefing everyone of what happened. 

Apparently, Dahyun had recklessly ran across the street to chase after Mina and Jeongyeon. After seeing there was an approaching car, Chaeyoung chased after Dahyun and tackled her out of the car’s trajectory. The physical trauma was a result of them falling on the ground rather harshly and acquiring gashes on their arms and legs. The car didn’t hit them. It stopped at the right moment. The shock came from the mere foot-length distance the car stopped before hitting them entirely. The two collapsed after that. The other fainted from shock and the other from accumulated shock and alcohol. 

The driver called an ambulance and, lo and behold, now they were here.

“Speaking of Chaeyoung, where is she?” Jihyo eyes the wrinkled bed behind Mina, traces of the youngest girl found only from the unkempt blankets and pillow.

"A nurse asked her to fill up some documents."

"Is she okay?" Nayeon asks, eyes fretting over the empty bed behind Mina. There's a gut feeling inside of her that didn't sit well with entire her system. “What did the nurses say about her?” 

“She was experiencing awful headaches so the nurses gave her an aspirin. After a few minutes she said she felt better.” Mina answers, her tone sounds just as uncertain as the worry on her face. “A new nurse came back and asked for her at the desk. Said something about filling up some papers and asking about a legal guardian. Also...Dahyun’s parents are here. They’re looking for Chaeyoung’s guardian too.”

“That’s going to be a problem then.” Nayeon places a hand on her hip, weight leaning on one leg. Her other hand is too occupied being a stand-up tree for a hugging-Koala Dahyun. At the mere thought of Chaeyoung braving everything all by herself makes Nayeon see red. “The kid doesn’t _have_ any guardian, Mina. Why did you let her just go alone—”

“Jeongyeon already went out to look for her.” 

At the mere mention of the name, however, Nayeon’s mind falls back into an almost vegetable state. It’s like a trigger that takes control of all her rational thoughts being pressed and now her head is short-circuiting all of a sudden. 

It’s Jihyo who naturally takes damage control. She gestures for the doors. "About Dahyun's parents, where are they? Have you talked to them about everything already?" 

They all had their own issues to face, own matters to fix. Nayeon with Jeongyeon, Jihyo with everything else.

"They asked about it but I couldn't answer them properly…" Mina hangs her head down, refusing to meet Jihyo's robust stare. She chooses carefully her words, trailing off, "I didn't know what to say. They were rushing in and _mad_ and...I didn't know what to do." 

Of course, Nayeon's had enough of the climatic build-ups. Her entire night had been one hell of a climax as it is. "Where are they now?" 

Jihyo glances warily at her friend, as if telling her to back it up a little. They were all just as tired as everybody else. 

Mina sighs. "Fixing Dahyun's outpatient papers. They said they were...um…" 

" _What_ , Mina? What did they say?" 

It's not Mina who answers, though. It's the usually bright girl on the hospital bed, sunshine hair disheveled and a mess. She looks euphoric in her state, but her eyes, albeit the smile she had on, looked awfully sad. 

"Me…" Dahyun slurs, grabbing Nayeon's hand and hugging it tight to her chest, eyes avoiding everybody else. "They're taking me home, unnie."

It becomes like a tidal wave gradually approaching at night like a sly fox, towards a small, peaceful town's blind destruction. From the very beginning of time, Nayeon had _always_ felt a sort of fondness for the unusually optimistic girl. 

Nayeon can still remember it. The first time she met Dahyun. It was the sunshine-haired girl who had approached her first a few years ago, beaming as bright as her hair. This new kid who had the widest smile on her face, paraded her misspelled **GEUSS** shirt and floral-patched denim jeans around the cafeteria, greeting the older students' tables while handing out rice cakes made by her parents like a kid on sugar rush. Most of the upperclassmen found her naive and ridiculous, and even pitied her for that spotless purity. The seniors didn't spare her rice cake any touch. Someone suggested they throw it away ("It might be expired, you know?"). Nayeon didn't say a word. She was just beginning to step up the ladder of high school popularity. She was just an apprentice to the seniors who made her collect the rice cake and yelled at her to throw it away. Despite that, she had felt an inkling of affection and admiration for the younger girl. She was once just like that too.

(A few weeks later, Nayeon had sworn off rice cakes for the next few years of her life. She had to get admitted to the hospital after eating nothing but two weeks' worth of it.)

In another world, one where a younger Nayeon had more courage to be kind, she would have befriended Kim Dahyun sooner. Yoo Jeongyeon's life had become so much brighter after meeting her. _Maybe that's why they call Dahyun a sunshine-haired girl. Even her soul is as bright as the sun._

_(I wish I could've been nicer to you sooner.)_

"Taking you home? To recuperate or something?" 

Dahyun clings onto the cheerleader's arm, vision and any sense of self-respect probably betraying her because of the side-effects of her medicine-induced high. 

"Nopeee." She slurs. "They're gonna take me far, _faaaar_ away from here..." 

Jihyo mirrors the frown on Nayeon's face, as if they have just seen their own worlds fall apart. Mina looks just as anguished. It's all as if the tidal wave has totally destroyed their small, peaceful world. 

Nayeon can't even begin to fathom what the _fuck_ is happening. "Dahyun, what are you talking about?"

It’s kind of hard trying to get some clarification from someone who’s in her _high_ , but Dahyun seems to answer consciously enough for Nayeon to believe her rationality. She’s not even sure what she should be worried about more: that she’s believing _someone_ who’s _high_ in medicinal drugs or the mere fact that she’s _believing_ itself. 

“Don’t worry unnie…” Dahyun continues to speak sluggishly, pulling away from her hold around Nayeon’s hand to look up at the older girl, attempting _at least_ to meet her eyes, “I won’t go _too_ far...” before looking behind Nayeon. “Unlike a certain someone here~”

And really, Nayeon doesn’t know what to be more terrified of: at the fact that Dahyun sounds serious enough to seem sober and believable, or the fact that, when she looks over her shoulders, she sees where Dahyun’s obvious glare is directed at and it just so happened to be Yoo Jeongyeon standing by the threshold. 

***

Truth be told, Chaeyoung felt like her heart had leaped out of her chest when she tackled Dahyun out of the car’s way and fell to the ground. The writhing pain on her arms and legs do not compare to the sensation of her heart literally feeling as if it stopped beating. She could hear Dahyun grunting underneath her but nothing seemed coherent enough for Chaeyoung to comprehend. Her entire body felt like it had grown numb and uncontrollable, like a puppet cut from its strings. 

The people in the movies capable of running after someone about to get hit and pushing/pulling them out of the way are truly the _real_ brave heroes. You can never really argue anything unless you’re in the position and now that Chaeyoung is in one, she can fully say now that the words are easier than the action itself. 

Chaeyoung couldn’t feel her entire body after pushing Dahyun out of the way–or tackling her and falling down _along_ the way _together_ –and the last thing she could remember were the vehicle’s headlights blinding her and the loudest voice Mina had ever spoken with–or _shouted_ , whatever. 

When she gained an inkling of consciousness after what felt like a passing minute or two later, the first thought that enveloped the miniscule portion of her mind capable of functioning was the possibility that she was already back in 2018, her present. 

She kept her eyes shut for another minute, trying to _pray_ that’s not the situation for her 1998 mission still felt like it had a long way to go, especially now that it seemed like Jeongyeon and her mother weren’t getting along again. Chaeyoung begged whoever could listen to her above to spare her pleads one last time. She _can’t_ be back. She _shouldn’t_ be. Not when she’s not yet finished with her mission. 

_Please, please, please…_

“Chaeyoung? Are you awake?” 

And then she heard Mina’s voice, sweet, soft, and heaven-sent. 

After that followed an excruciating series of repercussions–a severe headache like the ones where it felt like a hammer was pounding on different corners of her head, a raspy throat that was akin to sandpapers grinding on each other, and a painful _everything_. Sterile gauze pads decorated her arms and legs like scattered tattoos. Whenever Chaeyoung tried to take in a breath, her chest would constrict and a sudden sharp pain would worsen it with every attempt to draw in more air. 

Sensing the discomfort, Mina handed her a glass of water and called a nurse for some help. Indeed, someone had come in and had Chaeyoung drink some capsule for her headache that would eventually help out with all the other sharp pain in her body like domino effect. 

It did wonders and soon, another nurse had come in while Chaeyoung was using the slightest bit of her energy to laugh at Dahyun’s obvious high on medicine drugs and alcohol beside her. Jeongyeon, who had only spared them a few small smiles and half-assed replies here and there, had only stayed for a couple of minutes before walking out to grab some water. Chaeyoung was just about to ask Mina what happened, but another doctor had walked in on them and asked for Chaeyoung at the information desk to fill up some documents. 

The hospital corridor was second to none when it came to a hopeless attempt at a personality. The entrance to the A&E ward–found just down the hall–had a few posters up about road safety and triage color codes, and those were the only things that gave color to the place. Other than the entrance, the hallway where Chaeyoung was to be brought was icy grey and dull, and the fluorescent lights on the ceiling tiles looked like the spotlight before heaven’s gate. 

When she walked– _hobbled_ –out _,_ the first people to greet her were two strangers, a couple from the wedding band that almost slashed through Chaeyoung’s cheek, pulling her into an embrace that knocked the wind out of her. _Literally._

It turns out they were Mr. and Mrs. Kim, Dahyun’s parents. 

The doctors had to pry them off of Chaeyoung for them to let go. 

“We will talk to you, kiddo!” Mr. Kim, a well-built man dressed in a long coat, shouted before getting dragged away to the A&E ward by Mrs. Kim, a younger-looking woman clad in a striped shirt underneath a padded coat. “We’ll just go and see our baby first!” 

They looked incredibly worried and relieved at the same time, hustling. Indeed, after a few morose cries and sighs of consolation, the couple had walked out of the area and joined Chaeyoung in the information desk to fill up some outpatient documents. 

This is where Chaeyoung finds herself now. 

It turns out Dahyun’s parents are two devout Christians with unrestricted views on the world, not the usual orthodox kind, judging from the way Mr. Kim stood by the information desk across the hall and watched a rerun of MBC Top Music on the mounted television, with its tornado camera filming and RooRa performances, laughing and chattering with the exhausted A&E nurses to keep them company. 

They’re liberated and nice people, much like their daughter. 

“I don’t think we’ve thanked you enough for saving our little girl.” It’s Mrs. Kim who’s taken the waiting bench beside Chaeyoung, hands clasped together on her lap, rigidly sitting up like a straight rod was plastered on her back. 

From up close she looks younger and much like a slightly older version of Dahyun but with dark brown hair cascading a few inches past her shoulders and curtain bangs brushed a little to the side. She wore small thick-rimmed glasses perched on the edge of her nose. Since Chaeyoung didn’t have the courage to glance up and meet the older woman’s eyes, she focused down on the polished floors, admiring the leather loafers instead.

She lets the awkwardness envelope them in silence. Even in the present, she had never been good at dealing with parents. 

It’s only a few more seconds after that when Mr. Kim, a bigger and slightly-older-looking man, plops down on the waiting bench at the other side of Mrs. Kim, when the awkward silence is broken. 

“Again, thank you, Chaeyoung. I don’t think we thanked you enough.”

_Trust me, you have._

“Our Dahyunnie has always been accident-prone even when she was a baby.” He lets out a mellow chuckle. When Chaeyoung does spare him a quick glance, Mr. Kim looks as if he’s seeing a hologram display of a baby Dahyun in front of him, along the hallway, doing accident-prone things. 

He smiles at it fleetingly. “It’s nice that she has friends like you to protect her.” 

And to be frank, Chaeyoung feels like crying then and there. The entire day had been exhausting to say the least and she _almost_ died–well, transport back the present?–and she just _saved_ someone’s life. That someone being Kim Dahyun...the only person she can’t quite figure out _why_ she doesn’t exist in Chaeyoung’s present life. 

_Maybe it was this night. Maybe this night changed everything. If that’s the case, then was she supposed to—_

“It’s just too bad I don’t think we can handle any more risk for our little girl’s safety…” 

That ultimately has Chaeyoung completely looking up now, a small dip in between her brows. She doesn’t need to ask anything for her to get an answer. Mrs. Kim beats her to it, “It’s friends like you who make it hard for her to leave...”

“W-What...what do you mean _to leave?_ ” 

They explain it to her there. 

Dahyun’s childhood was filled with love and simplicity, and her parents wanted to keep it entirely that way for the rest of their lives. She was supposed to study in the nearby high school and graduate, and then perhaps help run the bakery her mother started. 

Mrs. Kim tells her their love prevailed over all of their other desires and plans for their daughter, so when Dahyun got accepted into Apgujeong after taking its scholarship exam on a whim and showed excessive eagerness to grab the opportunity, her parents had relented to her wishes and “shipped her off” to live in a dorm away from them and their simple life, all under the exchange of a promise from Dahyun to keep herself out of trouble _at all times,_ and to stay safe and _alive_. 

“The moment that promise is unfulfilled, we told her we’re taking her back.” 

It’s the split second after that when Chaeyoung’s entire mind perfectly connects the dots altogether. In the aftermath of her near-death experience, she _finally_ realizes why Kim Dahyun was a missing figure in her life. 

“You can’t take her away!” The shame only settles in when she realizes she just shouted at Dahyun’s parents, the couple jolting a little at the tone. Chaeyoung immediately hangs her head down. “I mean...I’m sorry...I just…” _Fuck. How do I tell this?_ “Dahyun...she…” _Come on Chaeyoung..._

“...She belongs here.” 

Looking back on her memories ever since magically arriving in 1998 at the back alley of Deux, the first people Chaeyoung ever met were the very two people who didn’t exist in her life. Two strangers who ended up becoming very important people to her now–people she _prays_ would stay for eternity. It was Jeongyeon, the pretty girl at the end of the alley, scary and intimidating in all her glory, who ended up becoming important not only to Chaeyoung but to her mother as well. And it was Dahyun, in the beaming brightness of her sunshine hair and her sunshine personality, who ended up becoming Chaeyoung’s magical partner-in-crime. Chaeyoung’s _someone._

Chaeyoung can’t afford to lose either one of them now. 

“With all due respect, Mr. and Mrs. Kim”, she takes a deep breath before glancing up at the older couple, their eyes filled with confusion and intent to listen. “I think that this is...Dahyun’s second home now. We are her second home now.” 

When Chaeyoung thinks of Dahyun, the first thing she sees is Jeongyeon. Jeongyeon’s smiles whenever the sunshine girl is around. Jeongyeon’s go-to _bro_. If Dahyun leaves, the only thing Chaeyoung can see is darkness. 

“There are no other places in the world where she would be equally happy and protected. If she wanted to be here in the first place, then leaving wouldn’t be an option she’d want to consider”, Chaeyoung meets eyes with Mr. and Mrs. Kim, and begs them with her own. “Please don’t take her back. Dahyun wouldn’t want to leave so soon.” 

“And what makes you say that?” It’s Mrs. Kim who speaks up first, with a mellow question that didn’t hide any underlying bitterness. It was a genuine one that sought for an answer without any malevolence and incredulity. Somehow, it reminds Chaeyoung _so much_ of Dahyun. How the girl could _never_ be entirely ill-natured. 

Chaeyoung doesn’t need to rack her mind for an answer. 

“Because we need her.” 

At the tip of her tongue lies the sole reason she believes is why things happened the way they did. _Why I never got to have a Jeongyeon unnie and Dahyun in my life._

“Without her, everything would fall apart. _We_ would fall apart.” 

(Oh, how Dahyun thought she was _no one’s_ . She wasn’t neither Chaeyoung’s nor Jeongyeon’s _someone_ . In all the little ways she never noticed, she was _everyone’s_.) 

“Please.” Chaeyougn takes a deep breath and feels her own heart’s thumping inside. “Let her stay.” 

There’s a glint of consideration in Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s eyes but Chaeyoung isn’t sure if she’s seeing them right. There are frowns on their faces but not the bitter and anguished kind. Theirs were the look that embodied the feeling of sorrow and compassion. Chaeyoung couldn’t blame them. They were _tired_ and worried sick too. And frankly, Chaeyoung can almost say she feels the same. At the back of her mind there felt a ticking clock counting down, about to meet its end. Like an alarm a few seconds away from ringing. Like this night is going to be her last. 

_Maybe it’s just the—_

“Chaeyoung!”

Chaeyoung’s cloud of emotions and fretful thoughts are abruptly blown away by a strong gust of wind, the sound of a very _familiar_ high-pitched voice resonating loud enough for the nurses to shush whoever it was. Chaeyoung turns around when another voice calls out her name, this time with a voice a little deeper, huskier, and sounding nearer. 

Down the other end of the hospital corridor stood Chaeyoung’s aunts Sana and Momo, two who were MIA all night, finally in all their physical–and disheveled–glory. 

For the second time that night, Chaeyoung is tackled into an excruciating embrace. 

The writhing pain from the force on her wounds sends her jolting away, and it’s only then Sana and Momo notice the sterile gauzes up her arms and legs. Their faces turn from 1 to 1000 in worry levels. Under the fluorescent lights, Chaeyoung can even see Sana’s eyes glistening in forming tears. 

“Unnie...why are you—” 

But she’s pulled into another hug again, this time softer and almost ghostly, a tiny space in between their bodies making room for air. Sana wraps her arms around Chaeyoung’s shoulders in a gentle touch, wary and very alert for any grunting in pain as she tries to pull the younger girl closer. When Chaeyoung adjusts her arms to meet at the hollow of her aunt Sana’s back, she hears a relieved sigh coming from the older girl. 

It feels a little bit close to home when they embrace.

“What happened? Are you okay? Jihyo sent us a message that you guys got into an accident.” From up close Chaeyoung could hear the tremble in Sana’s voice, her cheek pressed against the side of Chaeyoung’s head. A whiff of peaches linger in her nostrils. A thought at the back of her head flashes an image of a person who wore a perfume that smelled almost the same. 

(It’s the girl standing beside her aunt Sana.)

It takes about an entire minute of hugging and making sure Chaeyoung was physically still in-tact when Sana decided to give Momo a chance for her own moment and embrace. Just like Sana’s, Chaeyoung is wrapped around very gentle arms, head nuzzling into the crook of Momo’s neck. 

( _There’s that peachy perfume again…_ )

“We’re sorry we couldn’t come as soon as possible. Sana and I were trying to hold the party down…” There’s an underlying uncertainty in Momo’s words, as if she’s rehearsed it enough on their way to the hospital. 

Chaeyoung doesn’t think too much of it though, not when there’s an old lady standing beside Sana, watching them with a fleeting smile. 

They’re at least a few feet away, talking to Mr. and Mrs. Kim. It’s mostly Sana who’s chatting with the couple, telling her apologies and at the same time, respects. The old lady beside her, however,(not _old_ enough to be a grandmother but old enough to be getting there) only stands in place quietly, a gentle tight-lipped smile gracing her wrinkly, pale face. 

There’s a sort of familiarity ghosting around her aura. The lady looked like every gentle and kind-hearted grandmother, soft in her touch and makes the _best_ cookies ever, and although all Chaeyoung can sport is a frown at her direction, the lady returns to her with a gentle smile and fleeting eyes. 

It’s Momo who pulls away from the hug first. She steps aside for Sana to join her, hand holding the lady’s as she smiles too, “Chaeyoungie, we met your grandmother outside. She said she was looking for you? The hospital called her number written on your school forms.” 

And maybe it’s the haze from the medicine, or the lingering shock still clinging into the corners of her body, immortalized in the gashes and wounds all bandaged and gauzed; whatever it is, Chaeyoung’s mind feels like short-circuiting at Momo’s words, feels like a movie in slow-motion. All she looks at is the old lady a few feet away, how familiar she seems but not entirely so, like that _one_ childhood playmate you remember having but can only see a distorted face. It’s like a memory fogged up in her mind. 

It takes about a tenth look and attempts at racking her mind when it dawns on Chaeyoung. The familiarity. This isn’t her grandmother. 

_She’s the lady from the diner..._

Mr. and Mrs. Kim excuse themselves to go and check on their daughter, Momo and Sana following behind them. Chaeyoung’s inside shout at her to beg for them to stay and _pull her away from here,_ bring her with them and never let her go. All the terrifying emotions and fretful concerns over her stay falls on her entirely then and there. Emotions of anguish, terror, _everything_ all well up in forms of tears at the corners of her eyes, trickling down as she remains frozen in place, an invisible duct tape around her mouth.

When the old lady steps closer, her heart feels constricted and tight, and it gets harder to breathe. All the emotions intensify, and Chaeyoung feels like she’s falling from a cloud, fast and hard and without anyone to save her.

_Please don’t—_

But the old lady closes the distance between with her own embrace, and in place of what Chaeyoung had expected–holding hands with her own demise–what happens next is a sense of mental and emotional repose, like the feeling of fresh air after drowning, or that _one long relieved sigh_ after one tiny good event in a shitty day. 

The old lady looks the same as from that night in the diner. She also feels the same, like a refuge after a storm. And maybe it’s the calming way she runs her trembling, frail fingers along Chaeyoung’s hair, or the way her voice sounds soothing and nice and very warm, but when she tells Chaeyoung something— 

“Come with me outside?” 

Suddenly all Chaeyoung feels is the enchantment to oblige, as if in her company, all the dread had been washed out. Silently, they make their way down another hall, quieter and empty, the one with a beautiful garden waiting just outside the end. 

***

There are about a thousand ways to react upon seeing Yoo Jeongyeon in person again, a few feet away and not an entire flight of stairs in distance between them (and _definitely not_ pulling someone else by the arm–said _someone else_ being most probably the most angelic human to ever grace the earth, also known as Mina Myoui), but all Nayeon’s entire body responds with this time is subdued sound–almost faint and unnoticeable–of a tiny drawn-in breath and a shattering heart.

Yoo Jeongyeon looks like she’s hanging on a very thin thread of rationality and awareness, exhaustion painted on her face like a paint splattered all over it. She says something about Chaeyoung but Nayeon doesn’t comprehend any of it, not when her instincts fall into a natural state of alertness, keenly looking through every detail of Jeongyeon’s body to know if she’s alright. 

Her heart lurches at the dark circles under the girl’s gloomy eyes. Jeongyeon’s lips are pressed in a taut line, chapped and dry and worryingly discolored. Her hair is a little bit disheveled from how Nayeon remembered it to be; Her left hand is holding up a paper cup of water while the other hand rests at her side—

“What happened to your hand?!” It leaves Nayeon’s lips a little too tense and overwrought than how she wanted it to be. Her face scowls at the sight of white bandage wrapped around Jeongyeon’s left hand, covering a few inches of her wrist up to her knuckles. Naturally, Nayeon’s eyes search Jeongyeon’s entire body for more traces of any injury and she does see a few discolored patches of skin on the girl’s knees and legs. 

Jihyo follows the trajectory of Nayeon’s frown and sees the bandages. Her eyes widened in horror. “What the hell, Yoo!? What are those? Where’d you get them!?”

There’s a split second of tense silence between the four girls. Jihyo’s busy glaring down at Jeongyeon, waiting for a response. Jeongyeon’s busy shifting wary glances between Mina and Jihyo, as if trying to telepathically tell something to Mina. It would have been another war on land if it weren’t for Dahyun’s parents coming in between them to talk to their daughter in all of her euphoric glory, followed by the peering of two apologetic faces behind the couple. 

“YA!” Jihyo doesn’t get to keep her tone down at the frustration and exasperation from seeing the two _again._ “Where were you two this whole time!?”

Sana and Momo go on a lengthy explanation of what they had been doing–something about controlling the chaos of the party when Jackson arrived with his friends–all done simultaneously, Jihyo thinks her head is going to burst trying to understand them at the same time. 

Nayeon doesn’t make an effort to hear everything out. All she could think of is Dahyun’s words playing in her mind and the pain it brought to her seeing Jeongyeon hurt. 

It’s what pushes her to call for the attention of the silent girl in front. “Can we talk outside?” 

Really, it’s what Nayeon had been waiting for the entire day. To be able to talk to Jeongyeon. But when they take their steps outside of the A&E ward, to the waiting benches by the hall, all her clammy palms and churning insides tell her whatever she has to hear, would be something she wished she didn't.

***

“I looked for you the entire night.” 

It leaves out of Nayeon’s lips as a passing declaration, a desperate attempt to break the heavy silence between them. When the words settle into her mind a few seconds after it’s thrown out there, the first thing she feels is pity for herself. Something _was_ wrong but she turned a blind eye to it and chose to live in a miserable bubble of ignorance and bliss. Now— _now her decision came to bite her ass._

“When I woke up, the first thing I wanted to see was you.” 

In her many and varied imaginations of yesterday, all had been alike in one particular way. They all had Jeongyeon in it. 

In every turn-up and outcome, whether she’d go with the cheer squad or not, entertain truant freshmen and their eagerness to meet _the_ Im Nayeon or not, each scenario would lead back to Jeongyeon at the end of the day. They’d take a break from their leader duties and maybe see each other, hide from the party somewhere in Sana’s massive mansion, and live in their own world. 

It’s just unfortunate how Nayeon really didn’t consider _each and every_ possible scenario after all. Because even when she _prayed_ the day would end up with Jeongyeon–calculated the outcomes with more precision than when she choreographed cheer routines–she still didn’t expect the things that happened last night that when they did happen, Nayeon felt like winning the lottery only to die the next day. 

Her heaven felt like it ended so shortly before it began.

“Can you just…” Nayeon looks down on her lap and fidgets with the hem of the hoodie she’s wearing. Her mind is overflowing with words and held-back emotions but they all appear to her like jumbled pieces. She wants to _shout and blow up,_ but in Jeongyeon’s silence, she feels like fire burning out. “...Can you just please tell me what I did wrong?”

The slightest–almost unnoticeable–tremor in Nayeon’s voice is what makes Jeongyeon fall back to earth in a hard hit. Her shock makes her glance at the girl a seat away, in a distance she swore would be deemed _too far_ if it happened a day earlier. 

Under the dull fluorescent lights and the subdued, almost _mocking_ , sound of H.O.T.’s Candy playing in the mounted television down the hall like a bad background music choice, Jeongyeon sees Nayeon’s stone hard and ice cold facade thaw away. Beside her is Im Nayeon, bare and stripped out of the layers of her armor, the Im Nayeon Jeongyeon had known from the very dawn of time, the Im Nayeon _she falls in love with over and over again._

The longer Jeongyeon looks at Nayeon, the more her eyes become glazed with a limpid layer of tears. Nayeon had been _so_ strong, _so_ certain, _so powerful,_ but all of those were gone with the gentle blow of bleach-scented air conditioning breeze.

When Jeongyeon turns her eyes away from Nayeon, it’s only then the tears fall down. 

“I…” Her lower lip quivers with her words and Jeongyeon _hates_ how she can’t find anything to blame for Nayeon’s pain other than herself. “I’m sorry, Nayeon.” 

Jeongyeon hurt the one person she promised she would only love.

“You...you didn’t do anything wrong…” It’s harder now, to pretend she’s not crumbling inside. It’s harder now to pretend like she’s the superhero everyone had painted her to be. For now, just like Nayeon, she becomes _just Yoo Jeongyeon,_ the girl who acts on everything impulsively, the girl who doesn’t let anything or anyone hold her back. The girl who promised to protect everyone she loves–only to end up hurting the one she loved the most. 

“It was me. I just…” And maybe Nayeon sees the pain reflecting from her too, because she moves a seat closer to Jeongyeon and spares no regret closing the distance between them. 

When Nayeon wraps an arm around Jeongyeon’s trembling shoulders, body melting into the familiar warmth like it’s as natural as breathing, Jeongyeon doesn’t hold back her tears anymore. “I was...I was mad.” 

Jeongyeon’s hair falls at the sides when she looks down, acting like curtains shielding her away from Nayeon. She’s thankful for it, for the slightest bit of armor she has. She can’t seem to look at Nayeon in the eyes now. Not when everything’s just so complicated and exhausting and she’s...she’s _tired_ too. 

“You were mad...at me?” 

“I was mad at myself.” 

Looking at it now, Jeongyeon could have handled the situation better. She could have talked to Nayeon instead of ignoring her. She could have chased after Nayeon instead of letting her go. 

“W-Why?” 

But they had always been humans controlled by their emotions like puppets on a string. They had always been victims to the things they were most afraid of–Nayeon with her fear of losing everyone, and Jeongyeon of never being able to keep the people she loves.

“Because…” Jeongyeon pulls away from Nayeon’s warmth and forces herself to face her fear, to look Nayeon in the eyes and shed away her last piece of armor. “Because I saw you go with someone else and I could’ve ran after you...but I didn’t. I let you leave me again, Nayeon.”

The dead silence becomes the moment where she finds the rubber band in her heart getting stretched past its full limit, but instead of snapping back into place really, _really_ hard, it just falls apart altogether. 

"I'll _never_ leave you, Jeongyeon." If Nayeon had to wait a hundred years for Jeongyeon, she would. Because her biggest fear is not having to wait for love. It's knowing that a day would come and she doesn't have the right to anymore. 

And then Dahyun's words play in Nayeon's mind like a vivid nightmare, and after it follows Jihyo’s _especially now_ , and Nayeon suddenly feels her heart crumbling even more. "Even if...even if you'll go far away soon." 

It becomes somewhat like a switch that had been flipped inside Jeongyeon. The pain in her eyes morph into something else, something unbearably _there_ –like guilt or distress–darkening the oceans of onyx. Jeongyeon’s brows dip into a frown, head tilting a little as her voice stammers, “Who...how did you...who _told_ you that?”

Nayeon feels her insides burn into ashes. “So it _is_ true?” 

In hindsight, she should have known. A few days preceding the party, Nayeon always made mention of her hopeful prospect of Jeongyeon’s university life in Yonsei. She had long admitted defeat in the Yonsei-Korea University debate because it meant being on the same side as Jeongyeon’s future university despite personally believing Korea University was better. Looking back at them now, Nayeon should have noticed the way Jeongyeon had always swerved on the topic, avoiding giving a clear answer. She always acknowledged the idea but never confirmed anything. 

In hindsight, Nayeon should have seen it coming. Jeongyeon had never returned any of the college application letters piling up in their room. 

“Where do you plan to go?” 

_Are there any universities near Suwon? Suwon Women’s? Ajou? Kyonggi Suwon Campus? Or maybe a little farther? Jeju? Didn’t she say her grandmother used to live in Jeju? Maybe in Cheju Halla? But that can’t be. Yonsei would still be a better option for her. Nothing can be better than—_

“Stanford.” 

“Stanford…?” Nayeon utters with slight difficulty, articulating in hopes of getting her mind to recall any university within the country with such a western name. She doesn’t think of any. “Do you... suddenly want to work with cars? I thought you wanted to take physical therapy?” 

In another situation where they would just be on their bed, bodies entangled and in another one of their bullshitting antics, Jeongyeon would have laughed at Nayeon’s genuine cluelessness with an incredulous cackle. She would have found utmost amusement at the girl. 

Unfortunately, now isn’t the time for any laughing or joking around. It’s the time for them to face the reality of life and timing, and that they would have to face both sooner than they thought. 

“It’s in California. I’ll move in with my family.”

The silence stretches from there, for about a few seconds before an entire minute, and then in the faint sound of their hearts breaking, Nayeon puts on the most painful smile on her face, eyes glistening with her own tears. “W-Wow! That’s...that’s... _amazing,_ Jeong!” 

And what’s more unbearable in Jeongyeon’s eyes is the fact that Nayeon...Nayeon looks genuinely happy for her. “I…I’m sorry, Nayeon. I didn’t tell it to you sooner.” 

“It’s okay!” There’s that smile again, lips quivering as a trail of tears stream down her cheek. “I...I’m _so_ proud of you!” 

Nayeon pulls Jeongyeon into an embrace. It lasts longer than all of the hugs she’s received her entire life. It feels stronger, as if coming from a place of intense emotions. It’s tighter, and when Nayeon reels this in, Jeongyeon can’t help but hear a whimper escape her lips. 

Instead of saying anything else, Jeongyeon wraps her arms around Nayeon instead and pulls her closer, presses a deep kiss to the side of her head. “I wouldn’t have accepted it if I knew we’d...we’d make up and become... _this_ …” 

Nayeon doesn’t pull away. She nuzzles her face into the crook of Jeongyeon’s neck. “I wouldn’t want you to throw away such a big opportunity just because of me, Jeong. I’d never let you do that.”

“I know that. It’s just that...I could have fought to stay a little bit longer and…” Jeongyeon doesn’t even know what to say anymore. She just...breathes in the faint scent of her perfume in Nayeon’s hoodie– _wait...she doesn’t own any soccer team hoodie..._

“When will you be leaving?” Nayeon _hates_ that she wants to know. Wants to know the little time she has left with the person she loves. Wants to know how many months she has to create beautiful memories with the girl in her hold. 

“Their calendar begins earlier than ours…” They don’t let go of each other. Jeongyeon doesn’t know what to do if she sees Nayeon’s pain-stricken eyes, especially when—“I leave before the end April.” 

Nayeon counts the months in her mind. _July, August, September, October, November, December, January, February, March...April._ She has ten months left to make the most of it with Jeongyeon. 

_Ten months._

When the realization hits her that she only has _ten months_ left with Jeongyeon, not even a year, the brightness in Nayeon’s tone fades away. She pulls back from the hug and looks at Jeongyeon with morose. “When were you planning to tell me this?” _Next week? Next month? When you start packing up? When you leave?_

“I was about to, when we were walking back to the dorm that night Chaeyoung was sick.” Jeongyeon doesn’t look Nayeon in the eyes. “But then your asshole ex came and—"

“How’d you know we broke up?” Nayeon cuts her off in surprise. Because Jeongyeon had actively avoided her the entire day, she never had the chance to tell Jeongyeon about her breakup with Dohwan. _How—_

“That’s...that’s actually the reason why…” Jeongyeon holds up her bandaged hand, grunting in slight pain when Nayeon immediately takes it with a horrified gasp. 

“You got into a fight with him!?” And then it clicks in Nayeon’s mind, the crowd gathering outside of Sana’s mansion during the party. The crowd howling at a fight. _That was Jeongyeon?!_ “Jeongyeon! You could’ve been seriously hurt!” 

Jeongyeon flinches at the rising tone. “I know, Nayeon. Now’s not the time to lecture me about it because it already happened and—”

But her words are cut short by the forceful pairs of soft lips that crash into her own. Nayeon kissed her and Jeongyeon’s words fell away. It takes about a nanosecond for Jeongyeon to respond with her own fervent movement, reeling in the sensation of something intense and raw and all-consuming. Something she would never be able to put into words before but now, can only describe it with a million and one. _Love._

It’s young, intense, raw, passionate, and all-consuming _love_ for Im Nayeon _._ For her-best friend-turned-enemy-turned-fuck-buddy-turned _love of her life,_ Im Nayeon.

It feels like an eternity when they pull away, and Nayeon catches her breath when she rests their foreheads together. The ghost of a smile tugs at her lips for half a second before it becomes a small frown. 

“Don’t you _ever_ get hurt again, okay?” 

Jeongyeon wordlessly nods. Mind spiraling out of control from the kiss. 

“Don’t ever think I’d get mad at you for choosing a brighter future.” 

Jeongyeon gulps down a boulder. Heart thumping out of her chest from those eyes. 

Nayeon pulls back a little to hold Jeongyeon’s face with her hands, thumbs finding their way to wipe softly at dry trails of tears.

“Yoo Jeongyeon.” She leans closer to press a kiss on Jeongyeon’s lips. A tear falls down her own eyes. “I am _so_ proud of you.” 

_I love you so much._

“You’re slowly achieving your dreams.”

_I will wait here._

“Don’t forget us when you’re there, okay?” 

_Don’t forget me._

Jeongyeon can feel the underlying pain in Nayeon’s tone; can see the traces of sadness in her smile. “I’m not even leaving yet and you’re getting all emotional.” She forces herself to play along, for the sake of returning to their old ways. For the sake of _Nayeon and Jeongyeon_ , and _just them._ “What more if it’s the day I have to go?” 

“I won’t make a scene, don’t worry”, Nayeon nudges at the girl playfully. “Although, you _do_ have to promise me you’ll visit when you can. No more leaving and running whenever something happens. Let’s just... _talk_ . Or write letters to each other. Whatever. I’ll wait for you a _thousand years_ if I have to.”

Jeongyeon thinks Nayeon should be the one promising that to herself, but then she remembers the party and eventually relents. “Do I have to sign something for that?” 

“I’ll make a contract when I can. When we’re done with this whole thing…” 

Jeongyeon smiles at that. “That’d be nice.”

“Yeah...it would.” 

Nayeon rests her head on broad, cotton-clad shoulders. “But it’d be nicer if you don’t forget me when you’re there. If you don’t suddenly fall in love with someone else while I patiently wait for you here like a lovesick puppy.” She forces herself to think it’s meant as a playful pass, a vague attempt at a joke. 

But when she sees a future without Jeongyeon, all she sees is something gloomy and sad. So if waiting for Jeongyeon would give back the light in her life, Nayeon would. _A hundred more, I would. In my next life, I would._

“Aren’t you the one more likely to do that?” A snort escapes Jeongyeon’s lips. She leans her head against Nayeon’s. “You should be promising me too. That you won’t suddenly go run off with someone again. Or if you would, suddenly find someone again, someone who loves you, at least...at least tell me.” 

Because when Jeongyeon sees a future without Nayeon, she doesn’t catch anything more than a blank canvas. If Nayeon falls in love with someone else, finds someone better, then the least she can do is tell Jeongyeon. _Because nothing would hurt more than knowing you can’t come back to the person you love the most._

***

The garden is enchanting, just like the two people walking in it. 

There are trees with leaves falling down harmoniously. Beds of flowers line the circular stone pathway with benches by the side. It’s a sea of pollen grains but Chaeyoung, walking beside the old lady humming along the sound of the birds waking up, doesn’t feel any inclination to sneeze her heart out. It’s magical and solaced, and the skies are hues of blue, orange, and yellow, with splatters of white clouds here and there. 

It’s the one moment in time where there are only the skies, the birds, and the sun taking its first breath of the day, waking up to the sound of the steps of a girl who’s wish had come to an end. 

“I can’t come back yet. I don’t _want_ to.” Chaeyoung’s words make her sound like she’s a spoiled child but when they leave her lips, all they reflect is the yearning inside of her, the sad desperation, the disappointment over feeling so _empty-handed._ _Unsuccessful._ “I haven’t fixed things here yet. I can’t leave so soon.” 

The old lady beside her stops at the bench and takes a seat. Chaeyoung is drawn to follow, sitting on the opposite far edge.

“I’m not giving you a choice, Chaeyoung.” She picks up a flower from the bed beside the bench. It’s pink and shaped like they’re made out of crumpled tissue paper. _It’s a pink carnation._ “You were never meant to fix things here, child.” 

“Then what was I supposed to do? You granted my wish at the diner that night and then I woke up here! _For_ mom’s happiness! And in order for that to happen, I _have_ to _fix_ the past, whatever made them fall apart. Make sure nobody dies, nobody leaves! _That_ was why you granted my wish!”

Chaeyoung didn’t mean to shout, but the emotions inside of her rile up and intensify like a burning flame, and when it cools down at her realization, all she’s left with is an overflowing amount of tears. Of pent-up anger and disappointment at herself. “The one time the birthday gods granted my wish, I manage to fuck it up too.” 

“Sweetie…” The old lady moves closer to her. “There are no birthday gods. Your wishes came true because your mother _loves_ you. You weren’t sent here to fix things. Nothing needs to be changed. Nothing _can_ be changed. Everything already happened.”

“Then why did you even bring me back here?” 

“For you to _realize_ what your mother’s life had been like before.” 

“Yeah?” Chaeyoung snorts incredulously. “Well, apart from the very few times she was with Jeongyeon unnie and actually seemed to enjoy it, the entire situation had been messy and chaotic, and tiring and misunderstood.”

“And that’s the point, sweetie.” The old lady smiles at her as if she was looking at the entire world before her. “Your mother’s life _was_ messy and chaotic, and tiring and misunderstood. Until _you_ came and became _her happiness._ ” 

She hands the flower to Chaeyoung. 

“You must have thought the birthday gods have stopped hearing your wishes...well, I can’t say there aren’t ones but I’ll assure you this: the gods aren’t the ones granting your wishes, Chaeyoung. It was your mom all along.”

Chaeyoung looks at the pink flower in her hand. “What are you talking about?” 

“Do you really not remember your 9th birthday?” 

“What about it?” Chaeyoung can’t remember much apart from labeling that night the worst. Her mother had come home after being gone for a few days, crying into her aunt Jihyo’s arms. _Someone didn’t make it._ “Who...who didn’t make it?”

“Your mother.”

_What?_

“On your sixth birthday you made a wish with every fiber of your heart. The whole universe had felt it. Your _yearning_ . And your mother, above anything else in the world, loved you so much, she’d sacrifice her own heartbreak for your happiness. She began looking for the person who promised to become your _mommy_ too.” 

( _Chaeyoung blows her all six of her candles, the same number as her new age now._

_“What did you wish for, princess?” Jihyo glances from beside her camcorder._

_Chaeyoung hesitates for a little while with an adorable sly smile. She gives in with a giggle. “I wished for mommy.”_

_Nayeon grimaces. “Wished for me?”_

_Chaeyoung shakes her head with another giggle. “I wished for Other Mommy.”_ )

“A few days before your ninth birthday, your mother flew to a far place to pay her heartbreak a visit. You can say it wasn’t just for the pure intention to grant your wish, it was also an opportunity to see her again. Almost a decade of longing and absence, there she was. In beautiful white, older and wiser, your mommy Jeongyeon.” 

“Life had marched in an entirely different direction for all of them. Your mother had to let go of someone special in her life in order to welcome someone new–y _ou._ The only way for you to find out what happened _after_ is if you ask your mother, yourself.” 

“But I can’t...I’m not yet done with—” 

“There is nothing to fix here, Chaeyoung.”

_Is travelling to 1998 an opened door for her to change or prevent things from happening like an omniscient character, or is it just an opportunity for her to watch and find out what it is that happened in the past that had ultimately caused the fallout in the present, like a spectator just waiting for destruction?_

“Your _mission_ isn’t here.”

_What was left to damage more when Nayeon and Jeongyeon had long been a sad narrative? It was all about the girl who was afraid to love and be left behind, and the girl who loved but was pushed away._

Chaeyoung doesn’t understand anything. Doesn’t comprehend a little detail into what seemed like a jumble of words from the otherwise enchanted old lady. What she makes out of it comes a few seconds later. _So I have to come back now? In the middle of all this mess? Just leave? Out of the blue? What if they wonder where I am and look for me? What if they—_

“They won’t.” 

“You can read my thoughts too?” Chaeyoung gasps. “Wow, you really _are_ magical.” 

“Rest assured sweetie, you’ll become a passing memory. It’s normal for life to get in between at times and when they look back on their youthful days, they won’t even remember much. You don’t have to worry about a thing.” 

“You really planned this all thoroughly?”

“I got you here so I can take you back too.” She says it firmly with a gentle smile, Chaeyoung is vaguely weirded out and _amazed_ at the same time. 

“Can I...at least...say goodbye to them?” _It was the kind of heaven all I could ask for._

“Don’t say goodbye because this isn’t goodbye.” The old lady stands up from the bench and smiles down at Chaeyoung, reaches her arm out for the younger girl. “Tell them you’ll see them soon because you will. Because it’s your mission to.” 

***

"You two talk as if this is the last time you'll see each other again." 

A familiar voice breaks in between their mellow moment like a sword slashing through, the familiar sound of a record’s rift like in a scene where a character destroys a magical moment, plays shortly after. Down the hall stood Jeongyeon and Nayeon’s favorite roommate. 

Jeongyeon sees Nayeon leap up to her feet and sprint the fastest the girl's ever ran since their track and field days in P.E. class, freshman year. In Nayeon and Chaeyoung's collision, Jeongyeon expected the younger girl to fall on her butt. Thankfully Chaeyoung stays firmly standing albeit staggering back a little. 

Nayeon tackles like a football player. _Damn._

"You little kid, you're gonna give me a heart attack!" Nayeon lets go when Chaeyoung jolts at the force on her wounds. She utters apologies but is soon drawn back to talking to Chaeyoung like a mom would to her little baby. "Don't _ever_ do something like that again! Don't just run across the street when there's a car! Don't tackle someone—"

"Like what you just did?" Jeongyeon snorts behind the two. She is blatantly ignored.

"—and don't get hurt too! You've been under the weather so many times, kid! I'm genuinely afraid one day you'll just vanish into the wind because of _all_ the times you've endangered yourself!" 

“Actually unnie, about that…” 

There’s an unfamiliar tone presented to them. For the first time, Jeongyeon and Nayeon feel more afraid now. The younger girl before them, decorated in all the horrible glory of her gauzes and small bruises, looks smaller as she smiles at them with a tight-lipped one, just a second’s worth, before gently saying, “I might take some time away.” 

“What do you mean?” It’s Jeongyeon who asks it, because Nayeon seems too taken aback with everyone suddenly leaving. 

Chaeyoung wraps her bandaged arms around Jeongyeon’s midriff, and presses her face against the soft fabric of Jeongyeon’s shirt, traces of the smell of alcohol and bleach clinging onto it. “I’m going to go with my grandmother somewhere.” 

“Will you come back?” Nayeon moves closer and ruffles the younger girl’s hair. “Because I don’t think I can take another person telling me they’ll be leaving. I’ve had too much for one night.” 

Chaeyoung takes in the feeling of Jeongyeon’s warmth, the one she’ll miss the most. She looks up at her mother, head resting on Jeongyeon’s shoulder. “We’ll meet again soon, unnie.” _Mom._

“Is this your way of saying you won’t come back?” 

“It’s my way of saying…” Chaeyoung stretches her other arm out and pulls her mother into a group hug. She snuggles her way in the middle. 

_This is heaven._

“I love you two so much.” 

_We’ll meet again._

When Chaeyoung pulls away from the two older girls, she’s reeled back into another embrace, this one bigger and tighter, of stronger arms that tell everything to Chaeyoung–body, brain and soul–they are with her. Jihyo is sniffing somewhere in the hug, Sana and Momo giggling even though Mina is grunting at the lack of space–yet she continues to hug Chaeyoung tighter. 

When they pull away, it’s only because Chaeyoung _really_ has to go now. 

“You _dare_ leave without saying _goodbye?_!” Jihyo narrows her puffy eyes at the younger girl. “We heard you from the room! You’re going away!” 

“It’s not goodbye, unnie.” Chaeyoung smiles, hugs her _aunt Jihyo_ again. Tighter. Closer. “It’s thank you for being with me all this time, for putting up with all of us, and keeping us intact.”

“What about me!” Dahyun shouts from inside the A&E ward. Chaeyoung lets out a small laugh. She runs over to the sunshine girl and hugs her with all the love in the world–at least, as tight as her parents allowed Chaeyoung to. 

“Thank you”, she whispers. Presses a soft kiss at the side of Dahyun’s head. “For being the _best bro ever._ ” 

Sana and Momo hug her again. Jihyo is sniffing beside Mina. Her mother and Jeongyeon only look at her with a distant smile. 

Jihyo tries to buy time. “Come on now, we’ll walk you out--”

“No, it’s okay, unnie.” Chaeyoung hugs Dahyun on the bed again, and pulls everybody else with her Aunt Jihyo, Sana, and Momo take her side. Jeongyeon, Nayeon, and Mina take the other end of Dahyun’s bed. “We’ll all see each other again, don’t worry.”

_This isn’t goodbye._

_This is heaven._

_And I’ll make sure we meet each other again._

At the threshold of the A&E ward entrance, the old lady smiles at the sight of the group of youthful friends, at the soft tones of nature, the delicate browns and the sky that dips to show the stars, an earthiness that lasts a lifetime. This was the mission Chaeyoung was tasked to start and finish. This group of lovely, youthful, chaotic girls. 

_This was her mission that had only begun._

  
  
***  
  


(In hindsight, Chaeyoung should have known it would end where it started. 

Deux's back alley was just as weird as it is at night even when under beautiful waking sunlight. 

"Do I have to blow a candle again or something?" Chaeyoung sits down on the asphalt road. 

The old lady only laughs at her, crouches to a sit beside her. "You just have to close your eyes and open them when I tell you to." 

"Okay. But would I have to endure another earth-shattering pain when I—"

"Close your eyes." 

Chaeyoung immediately shuts up and does what she is told to do. She counts in her head the passing seconds as she waits.

_One...two...three..._

In between them she clenches her hands tight, feeling them clam up at the anxiety. Her heart beats faster than it should.

_Seven...eight...nine..._

"Okay, open." 

Chaeyoung does what she's told so, and the thing first sees is cold and dirty asphalt beneath her stretched-out legs, puddles of water here and there. Like the first time she had been there, Chaeyoung’s sat on the ground. Her eyes move slowly up to the sides of her thighs, where she sees familiar-looking strawberry-printed pajamas. 

The second detail follows a little later on, when Chaeyoung notices how she’s leaning on the diner’s glass door, cold and frosted. Above her is a door sign that says a big, black and bold _Closed_.

The third detail comes in lightning speed, from the way the sun glares down on her figure from above. It’s daytime—morning, specifically.

The fourth and last detail is the most terrifying one.

There’s a girl standing at the end of the alley, just by the turn, in all of her statuesque glory.

Chaeyoung doesn't need any other detail than the voice that calls out her name, with much confusion and shock, to know who it is. 

"Chaeyoung?" 

_Oh wow. Is the mission already starting?_ )

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry if it didnt meet your expectations. but i did pour my heart here so i genuinely hope u all enjoy it. this is NOT where it ends. I Repeat, THIS IS N O T WHERE IT ENDS. 
> 
> theres more to come. A little bit more. 
> 
> i hope you all enjoyed the ride guys. writing this fic had been, for the lack of better term, a rollercoaster for me. If we were in one, this would be the part of the ride where we're near the end, slowing down to catch our hearts 
> 
> again, pls dont hate me if u didnt like this :( 
> 
> also, in light of this update i would just like to bring focus into the #BlackLivesMatter movement. Donate when you can. Speak instead of being silent. Be a part of making a better world. :)


	14. what has become of us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were older now–hopefully wiser too–and the world didn’t stop for their problems anymore, but growing up didn’t mean they have to let go of the same old spark of youth inside of them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're back in 2018, people. this happened on the day chaeyoung time traveled. see it unfold, as told in the way nayeon sees it.

The entire day had felt wonderfully weird since the moment Nayeon had woken up. 

On a normal basis, the adult woman’s biggest enemies were the morning sunlight and her useless sheer white curtains that can’t do their  _ fucking _ job right. Nayeon would always wake up to the sunlight piercing through her heavily-shut eyelids rather than to the sound of her own warning bell alarm. 

This morning, however, Im Nayeon had woken up to the beautiful alarm right on time–always two hours before her clock-in–and the view she opens her eyes to are the skies outside her window, a fair mix of fresh blue and splatters of white dragged around like a fading paint brush stroke. The sheer white curtains stayed idle by the side of her floor-to-ceiling window, no longer needing to filter out any blinding sunlight. 

It was a great start for her day. What followed next made it even  _ greater.  _ Waking up on time not only guaranteed Nayeon more preparation time for work, it also meant catching her daughter before she leaves for school, maybe even elicit a catch-up conversation over breakfast and things alike. Furthermore, it guaranteed Nayeon some very reliable fashion advice, knowing how she’ll be wearing more casual sports clothes for today and she needs nothing more than to look impressive for her first employees sports day with her new company. 

(And besides, Chaeyoung had  _ always  _ been Nayeon’s go-to wingwoman. Even Jihyo surrendered to it.)

For the sake of time management, Nayeon takes a shower first before heading out to the kitchen where she can hear the clanging of utensils and the sound of her daughter laughing–probably at another one of those climbing plants. 

Nayeon takes out her old set of sports clothes and tries them all, beginning with partnered sets before randomizing everything after a few unsatisfying combinations and outcomes. She’s never been  _ really _ patient when it comes to picking out anything to wear, even when she was young, so when more than three attempts return unsuccessful, she finds herself nearly losing it. 

_ Ah, fuck this. _

Nayeon removes everything again until she’s only in a sports bra and spandex shorts, and just... _ stares _ at herself in front of the full-length mirror. Frown in distaste, really. While others would  _ kill _ to have a body like hers–other appearance-obsessed mothers of their own–Nayeon thinks the very, _ very  _ light and small marks of stretched skin (barely noticeable and only evident if someone would use a magnifying glass or looked  _ really  _ close) are actually  _ evidences _ of her hardest, most valuable life accomplishment: having Chaeyoung. 

Without any underlying intention to sing her own praise, Nayeon actually wishes she thought of the same high for herself when she was going through the entire postpartum predicament after having Chaeyoung. She had been so  _ obsessed _ with regaining her figure, trying to conceal any traces of her hardship and pride. Had she known being an eye candy would only turn her into some inferior male fantasy, she wouldn’t have tried so hard achieving the body standards.

In between being  _ so useless _ at first-time motherhood (who could blame her? She was just turning 20 that time), Nayeon had also busied herself attending pilates classes and going through various exercises and diets. Her model-like body now is the fruit of balancing both her physical and mental health, all while being a young single mom (at least, after the first three years, that is).

Nayeon can’t entirely own up for the credit, though. Her  _ almost _ -mother-in-law had also been very determined to have an  _ almost _ -daughter-in-law who is–or  _ was _ –just as pretty and well-proportioned as she  _ was _ during her youthful days, being a former beauty queen and what not. She signed up and paid for Nayeon’s pilates classes and even bothered herself over hiring the young mom a personal nutritionist. Her effort had been partially wasted when Nayeon  _ didn’t  _ become her daughter-in-law but despite this, they remained amicable. Nayeon would  _ always _ be grateful for Dongwoon’s family and their support during the earlier years of raising Chaeyoung. 

It’s just that things don’t always work out no matter how  _ perfect _ they seem. Nayeon never needed  _ perfect _ . She just needed  _ her _ —

“MOM! WAKE UP! AUNT JIHYO IS HERE!”

Nayeon’s  _ dangerous _ thoughts are immediately cut off by the sound of Chaeyoung’s daily morning shouting, Nayeon’s  _ most favorite _ alarm. 

Without even bothering to put on any robe or covering, Nayeon walks out of her room and down the hall, where she is  _ pleasantly  _ greeted by the horrified shouting of her own daughter.

“MOM! WHAT THE HELL?! PUT SOMETHING ON!” Chaeyoung covers her eyes immediately, dropping her phone on the marble kitchen counter in the process. “WHY ARE YOU WALKING AROUND NAKED!?”

Nayeon only lets out a cackle as she walks over to the kitchen where Jihyo is grabbing something to drink from the refrigerator. Nearly paralleled to her daughter’s  _ appalled  _ reaction, her best friend  _ almost  _ drops the glass of water she’s drinking from. 

Jihyo does choke on it though, and spits it out over to the sink. “NAYEON! WHAT THE HECK!?”

“Oh come on, you two.” Nayeon rolls her eyes bitterly at the incredulous reactions, “It’s not like I’m  _ naked _ or something.” She gestures over her body with a smirk, “This is what I see all the teenagers wear nowadays and  _ they  _ don’t get complaints...” 

“That’s because they’re _teenagers,_ _mom._ You’re a MOM.” 

“I’m not that old, kid!” Nayeon exclaims, feigning insult. “And will you stop covering your eyes? See  _ this _ ?  _ This  _ is the body that birthed you!”

“EW! STOP! GROSS!” Chaeyoung gags, jumping off the counter chair and picking up her phone before escaping to her room, all with her eyes covered. 

“YA!” 

“Sometimes I wonder who’s the older one between you two…” 

Nayeon turns around to see Jihyo already seated by the dining table, redeemed glass of water half-empty, head resting on her hand. 

“It’s not my fault she can’t appreciate the true meaning of raw beauty.” She huffs in defeat, grabbing a chair across and pulling it out to sit on. “She will never appreciate how  _ this… _ ” again, she confidently gestures over her body, “...is responsible for the beauty she was naturally born with.” 

Jihyo, of course, only deadpans at her. “She would have, if only you didn’t come out looking like a milf in a porno.” 

“Oh, like  _ you _ don’t look like one?” Nayeon cocks a brow at her best friend, eyeing her attire up and down. Jihyo was clad in Nike running shorts and dry-fit shirt, complete with a visor cap and Balenciaga Triple-S shoes to finish the entire milf look off. “Don’t think I don’t know those milf pornos, Jihyo; I am _ very _ aware of the latest trend. I even have Fergie’s M.I.L.F.$ in my playlist.” 

“Yeah, like how you just implied you’re a teenager earlier.” Jihyo rolls her eyes at her best friend before getting up and walking over to put her glass in the sink. “You  _ seriously _ need to remember you’ve got an actual teenage daughter here. If you show up at Chaeyoung’s school looking like  _ that, _ I bet your ass the entire male student population will think you’re just some lost new student.”

“Why, thank you for the tough-love compliment, Jihyo.” Nayeon smiles before getting up and catching up behind the other woman over to her bedroom. Jihyo’s going to help her pick out something to wear. “And besides, this is why I have  _ you _ to go to Chaeyoung’s school whenever needed. Because you  _ totally _ fit the scary mom look.” 

It’s a direct retort at her innate strict motherliness and all Jihyo can do is narrow her eyes at her best friend’s back, Nayeon happily overtaking her and skipping to the room. Jihyo makes a short detour and drags Chaeyoung out of her room and into her mother’s, because Nayeon doesn’t listen to anyone’s opinion if it doesn’t agree with her daughter’s. 

Chaeyoung, of course, feels like this is a death sentence. A soul like hers can barely survive a cliche changing montage in those chick flick movies, what more if it’s a cliche changing montage from  _ her own mother _ ? It’s just imminent death in disguise. 

“Chae, did you know your mom listens to Fergie’s M.I.L.F.$?” Jihyo playfully mentions just as she plops on down the edge of Nayeon’s bed, pulling her goddaughter with her, watching as Nayeon disappears into her small walk-in closet with a cackle. 

Chaeyoung lets out a resonating groan, covering her face with a discarded pillow, “Stooooooop…”

Jihyo lets out a laugh, clearly amused at the reactions she elicits from the girl whenever the humiliating how-does-it-feel-having-a-hot-mom topic is brought up. “By the way, Nayeon, where did you discover that song? I never see you listening to the radio.” 

On cue, Nayeon walks out of the closet. 

Chaeyoung feels her jaw slack at the sight.  _ Oh my god. My eyes might need a bleaching after this... _

“Oh, I hear it from those climbing plants Chaeyoung always watches", she replies nonchalantly before twirling around to show off how her old cheerleading uniform still perfectly fits.

Jihyo, however, is glued confused with the answer. "Climbing plants?" She turns to her goddaughter reflecting the same frown. "You watch climbing plants with Fergie music?"

"No…?" Chaeyoung thinks deeply into the question, racking her mind for any  _ climbing plants  _ and  _ Fergie.  _ She likes nature but she hasn't watched any climbing plant—

_ Oh my god. _

_ Oh my god. _

"Mooooom! No!" Chaeyoung stuffs her mom's pillow with the longest, most exasperated groan in the world. She lets it all out before meeting the confused frown on her aunt's face and her mom's mildly-worried one. 

"Did you mean Vine?" 

"Oh, yes! That!" Nayeon smiles, turning back to admire herself in the mirror. "I always hear that from those Vine videos that you always watch."

Jihyo...Jihyo can't even comprehend the frustration she's feeling. _Climbing plants!?_ _God, I can't with this woman…_

***

Eventually Nayeon picks an outfit after an hour’s worth of unsuccessful combinations and changing montage, and she ends up wearing an attire that induces a gag from her own daughter. 

“Are you two seriously going to look like that to a company field day?” Chaeyoung eyes up and down both her aunt Jihyo and mother walking ahead of her, frowning in distaste at the way her mother’s tennis skirt falls a few inches above her knees–shorter than appropriate for someone who’s in her late thirties and has an 18-year-old daughter–and she will be playing with a bunch of middle-aged colleagues in  _ that. _

Nayeon, of course, could barely care less for the fantasies of other people. “They’re just fantasies. That’s their problem, sweetie.” 

Chaeyoung only lets out a resigned sigh, stopping when her mother does as well, almost colliding in the process. 

“Wait, where’s your car?” Nayeon cranes her neck to the sides of the sprawling street, lined with bigger suburban houses and cars. Jihyo’s black Kia minivan is nowhere to be found. 

“Oh, that was Daniel’s. We traded back after I got my car from the repair shop.” Jihyo brings out a set of keys from the pocket of her running shorts and presses the button. An unlocking sound resonates from across the street, in front of Nayeon’s house, the headlights of a massive black Cadillac Escalade flickering. 

For the second time that morning, Chaeyoung feels her jaw drop. 

For as long as the 18-year-old can remember, her aunt Jihyo is only a little bit cooler than her mother because aunt Jihyo lets Chaeyoung get away with a lot of things and she doesn’t try so hard to look all  _ MILF  _ deliberately and just pulls off her superior energy effortlessly. The only thing holding her down in the ranking is her Kia Carnival, a minivan she drives around whenever Chaeyoung needs a ride somewhere. The vehicle  _ always _ made Jihyo look like a minivan mom when she had the energy of an SUV one.

To find out after all this time that it had been Daniel’s car her aunt was driving, it makes everything feel more understandable now, as if the stars have finally aligned. 

“This is  _ so _ cool…” Chaeyoung gapes at the fine and luxurious maple sugar semi-aniline leather interior of the  _ bling machine _ , hopping inside the backseat behind the passenger’s where her mother slides into. “Does this mean uncle Daniel drives a minivan and you drive an Escalade?” 

Jihyo steps on the footboard to get into her car, perfectly in sync with the gentle blow of the morning breeze, her high ponytail flowing behind her like a damned shampoo commercial. “Yes. Yes he does.” 

“That is the ultimate Big Dick Energy. Wow.” Chaeyoung scurries through the buttons at the second row of seats, admiring every nook and cranny of the bling machine. “Mom, now that you work with aunt Jihyo, can we buy our own Cadillac too?”

Nayeon almost chokes in her own breath. Jihyo only eyes her with a disgusted frown. She turns on the engine and lets it roar to life for a few seconds before driving off to Chaeyoung’s school just a few blocks away. 

“I...I don’t think that’ll be possible any time soon.” 

Although Nayeon’s new job is at the same company as Jihyo, there is still a big difference in the wages earned between a hot-shot Department Chief and a meager Marketing staff. The difference gets even bigger when expenditures are added, because while Nayeon pays for the bills and provides for an 18-year-old all by herself–of course, with Jihyo’s help too but Nayeon  _ never _ allows her to financially support for Chaeyoung unless  _ really _ needed–Jihyo’s married to a humble tech start-up CEO and hails from her own wealthy family, no child to provide for whatsoever. 

“I think we’ll be saving up for your college education first before a Cadillac, baby.” 

Chaeyoung’s shoulders drop. “Ugh. Okay”, she sighs in defeat until an idea pops up in her head. “In that case, can’t you just find a sugar daddy and—”

“YA!” Jihyo  _ cannot _ with these two. 

“Kidding...kidding…” Chaeyoung trails off with a mischievous smile directed at her aunt Jihyo’s glaring eyes from the rearview mirror. “...unless?”

“CHAEYOUNG! STOP!”

***

Chaeyoung’s school starts in ten minutes but she has her aunt Jihyo drop her off almost an entire block away from the entrance of her building. Naturally, both the adult women are confused. 

“Why are we dropping you off here when I can drive over to where I normally do?” Jihyo looks at the rearview mirror, watching her goddaughter hop off the vehicle, dragging out with her an abnormally big gym bag that makes an unusual sound at the rattling movements. It almost sounds like there are spray paint bottles inside— _ wait a minute. _

“Ya, Son Chaeyoung. Is that spray paint inside your bag?” Jihyo narrows her eyes suspiciously at the younger girl. “Are you going to do something reckless again?” 

Chaeyoung shakes her head. “What are you talking about, aunt Jihyo? This is for an art project.” 

“You were never a good liar, kid.” Jihyo cocks a brow at her goddaughter. Although she isn’t Chaeyoung’s  _ biological _ mother and she’s not intrinsically connected to the girl with some kind of motherly intuition like what Nayeon has with her daughter, Jihyo still knows Chaeyoung like she’s her own, like she’s the back of her hand. 

Chaeyoung, of course, doesn’t give in so soon. “I promise! It’s not about starting trouble again!”

“Let her be, Jihyo.” Nayeon pats her best friend on the shoulder. She tries to crane her body to the extent her seatbelt lets her to, just to give a pliant smile at her daughter. “It’s probably for that crush she has. I think spray painting for someone is  _ really _ sweet, Chaeyoungie.”

“Mom, no. Stop.” Chaeyoung frowns, cheeks warming with secondhand embarrassment. Sometimes Nayeon gets more attached to the people in Chaeyoung’s life more than Chaeyoung herself. “Whatever  _ that _ was, please let it go.” 

Nayeon’s just about to say something else but the door slams close at her face, sound resonating the inside of the car. Jihyo lowers her window to wave goodbye but Chaeyoung doesn’t look back at them. The two women only watch as she meets up with another girl, around the same height with dark brown hair, high-fiving each other before running off. 

Jihyo waits for a few more minutes until Chaeyoung disappears from their sight, before she reverses out of their parking space, body craned and eyes fixed on the car’s rear vicinity, one hand on the steering wheel while the other behind the headrest of Nayeon’s seat. 

“What was that for? Who were you talking about?” 

Nayeon slumps back into her seat with a resigned sigh. “A girl. My baby’s love sick for someone she met at that camp you told her about.” 

If it weren’t for the seatbelt, Nayeon would have kissed the front window of the Escalade with her entire face. The force of her head’s collision with the headrest sends an painful drilling at the back of Nayeon’s skull. 

“What the hell—”

“The camp? The summer art one?!” Jihyo looks past the obvious pain on Nayeon’s face. “She’s crushing on someone from there? What’s the name!?”

Nayeon, frankly, has never seen her best friend look so... _ disgruntled.  _ “Um, I’m not sure but she left her phone once, the morning she returned from the camp, and the caller I.D. was really weird. That was the first time I had a hunch she met someone because Chaeyoung’s normally boring at contact names but that one was just weird.” 

“Uhuh...you didn’t see the girl? When you picked Chaeyoung up from the camp?” 

“I couldn’t pick her up that time. I had to—”

Thank  _ goodness _ they were navigating through the side streets and not the main road or else Jihyo’s dramatic and forceful brakes would  _ definitely _ cost them someone else’s car insurance. Nayeon’s holding tightly on the handles by her side to  _ not _ throw herself to the front window at Jihyo’s second sudden brakes. 

“What?! I  _ specifically _ told you to pick Chaeyoung up from the campsite!” It was a plan. Jihyo had a plan. Nayeon unknowingly ruined it  _ again.  _ “Ugh! Nayeon! When will you  _ stop _ ruining all the plans I make?” 

“What are you talking about?” Nayeon is just clueless, watching as Jihyo resumes driving but this time, her knuckles tightly gripping at the steering wheel, an obvious evidence that the woman is visibly frustrated. 

It takes about an entire minute of heavy and intense silence for Nayeon to figure it out. “Oh my god. Were you planning on setting me up on some blind date again?”

They were nearing their forties than their thirties, and although Nayeon had long grown to accept she  _ might _ not be with someone ever again, Jihyo had made it her mission to set Nayeon up to almost  _ every _ person she deemed worthy enough and it’s become a hassle more than something to be grateful for. Nayeon appreciates the effort, she really does, and while she does  _ want _ to be with someone too, have to settle down with someone who can accept the fact that they shouldn’t just love  _ her _ but also her daughter, her standards are raised to the highest degree and are nearly impossible because they’re all suited to fit  _ just one person. _

Nayeon’s standards aren’t easily attainable–nearly inconceivable, really–because they’re all based on one person only. They all take after one person. And for that one person, s _ he doesn’t even need to make an effort.  _ All she needs is to show up again. 

“What? I wasn’t setting you up. I was just…” Jihyo lets out a defeated sigh. “I wanted you to meet them again.” 

There are about 7 billion people in the world now, 51 million in Korea itself, and about 9.7 million in Seoul. But Nayeon doesn’t need a specific list of names to know who “ _ they” _ are. It’s been more than a decade since Nayeon and Chaeyoung packed up and moved out of their Apgujeong apartment to live in the city. Back then Chaeyoung had just turned nine years old, and to her it was just a  _ long vacation _ to the bustling, glitzy center of modern Seoul. To Nayeon it was an escape from  _ everything.  _ It didn’t necessarily mean she deliberately had cut off everyone in her life. Those who made an effort stayed in it. When they left, it was only Jihyo who was able to find Nayeon and Chaeyoung. When they returned to Apgujeong, Chaeyoung was entering high school already and Nayeon was wiser and more mature. 

She’s not going to lie anymore. When they came back and settled down in Apgujeong permanently, a big part of Nayeon wished she could find everyone again and reconcile. They were her  _ best friends _ . They were a big part of Chaeyoung’s life too. Unfortunately, the universe just dispersed them all. Jihyo would update Nayeon from time to time but their lives didn’t just revolve around each other anymore unlike their youthful days. Now they were ladies, adult women with other responsibilities. Now, Chaeyoung was growing up and Nayeon had to be more focused on her daughter than anything else. They weren’t the old high school girls anymore who felt like they were on top of the world. 

Nayeon’s aware of how time had become so friendly to her old colleagues, while not so fair to the others. For the convenience of being updated with her daughter, she’s managed to create social media accounts. She has Twitter (@my_name_is_nayeon), Facebook (Im Nayeon), Instagram (@IAMNayeon), and–under her own daughter’s influence–Bumble and Plenty of Fish (appropriate dating apps). Although Nayeon only uses them to react to and share Chaeyoung’s posts, she comes across little bits of information about the people she used to know through most of them too. 

Adding Jennie Kim in Facebook will forever remain one of her greatest decisions yet. The woman is still just as vigorous and lively and popular with people as when they were still dancing in skirts and flailing pom poms around. Through Jennie, Nayeon’s managed to find, little by little, more of her old high school friends. Some have changed colossally to the point where it felt like a plot twist to Nayeon–Jacksong Wang turned from the hot-shot frat boy in high school to overprotective dad to a pair of five-year-old twin daughters (even posts pictures with them, wearing similar sets of tutus and fairy wands)–while some remained almost entirely the same person Nayeon used to know, with only their physical appearances changing–Kim Jisoo still looks  _ radiant _ and beautiful as ever (if not  _ more _ ) in her prenatal pilates videos. On occasional days, Nayeon would come across pictures and videos of her old friends meeting up over lunch or going to each other's houses. 

They were older now–hopefully wiser too–and the world didn’t stop for their problems anymore, but growing up didn’t mean they have to let go of the same old spark of youth inside of them. 

A portion of Nayeon wishes she could do the same. Hopes for a chance to see the girls again.  _ Her girls.  _ At least a time for her to apologize and catch up with each other. At least a time for her to tell them she’s sorry she never got to return their calls. A time to tell them she misses them. That she’s grateful for them. Because while they might be older now, bodies enraptured by the gruesome coldness of the world they live in, of the time that doesn’t stop for anyone, their hearts still remain like the gentle breeze of a spring day. They’re ladies now, but they stay girls forever.

“I…" Nayeon draws in a breath. "I think...I want that too…” The growing lightness in her chest after admitting makes her feel like surrendering to the longing inside of her is akin to waving a white flag after a hundred years of battle with herself.  _ A hundred years of waiting.  _

_ Waiting for nothing.  _

And just like that, the dull ache consumes the lightness. The universe's deliberate hatred for a happy ending in Nayeon’s story wins over her yet again. “But I don’t think it’ll be easy looking for them now.”

She looks away and focuses on the passing view out the tinted window by her side. Jihyo takes a different route for today because it’s a weekday and the morning rush and traffic are too taxing to deal with at such early hours. For now Jihyo opts to navigate away from the main road, driving down a painfully familiar street similar to taking a stroll  down  an imaginary path of the nostalgically overlooked past. 

Driving down this street is like walking through memory lane. A reminiscence of the old asphalt road they used to pass by for a shortcut to school, or chase each other around after classes. This alley used to be bustling, overflowing with life and energy. There would be shops selling CDs and posters of idols  _ everywhere, _ and the street would never be void of H.O.T. or Seo Taiji and Boys being blasted in old-fashioned stereo systems. High school girls would be  _ everywhere _ too, looking through boutiques for the latest issue of BOP Magazine or just hanging out at the nearby noraebang. 

It was full of life back then. 

Now, as Nayeon looks at the passing bigger buildings, more contemporary and quiet, the street looks just as fast-paced and lifeless as the main road. No longer did kids use it as a shortcut to their schools. There weren’t as many shops open as well aside from a worn-down 24-hour convenience store and a skeptical massage parlor–both of which didn’t exist before. 

“You’re wrong, you know.” Jihyo’s voice breaks through the tense silence inside the car. Her tone is soft but heavy. “It’s definitely easier now than it was before. I know you’ve tried to type in their names on Facebook or searched them up elsewhere. You just never got to the part of pressing the button and looking at the results. You just never got to the part of  _ actually _ finding them because...because you still can’t.” 

Nayeon only remains mum, staring out the window. There’s no sense in denying or arguing when Jihyo’s always  _ known _ everything. 

“Nayeon…” A deep sigh leaves Jihyo’s lips. “It’s been  _ years.  _ Like what you said yourself, we’ve all grown up. We’re no longer the youthful girls we were back then. But a part of growing up is coming in terms with your past. And you’ll never get that if you never stop letting the universe take control of your life.” 

“This isn’t a story about defying the universe, Jihyo.” Nayeon doesn’t dare face her best friend. There’s not enough courage inside of her to do so. “It’s a story about two girls choosing to fall in love at the wrong time. It’s about growing up and knowing that it’s not always going to be about love, and we’re not always going to get happy endings.” 

“You can’t say that when you haven’t even tried in the first place, Nayeon. You gave up the moment you saw her again.” 

It’s the rock that breaks the right window, the hit that knocks Nayeon out. She turns on her seat, faces her best friend in a swift, almost forceful, manner. It’s the  _ one enemy  _ that Nayeon’s never got the courage to face. “You  _ didn’t _ —”

“If you stayed a little bit longer and saw, maybe you could’ve stopped her wedding and—”

“Ran away with her? Is that what you  _ wanted _ me to do? 

“It’s what  _ you _ wanted to do!” The car jerks to a stop, Jihyo pressing down on the brakes with all the muscular force of her leg. She tears her eyes away from the road and faces Nayeon with furrowed brows and an exasperated glare. “You looked for Jeongyeon  _ everywhere _ and let  _ months  _ pass by before flying to California. It didn’t even take an entire  _ two days _ before you returned, crying and giving up!”

“Jihyo, she was  _ going to get married!  _ What else could I do!? If she loved me and kept that stupid promise we had then she wouldn’t have gone off marrying someone else! I waited for her!”

“You weren’t even sure if it was  _ her _ wedding.” Jihyo shrinks into her seat, resigned and exhausted. Dealing with Nayeon felt like a never-ending rollercoaster that only knew twirls and twists and never a calm route. “Stop letting the universe fuck you up! It’s your life! For once, have the courage to fight for your happiness too!” 

“Well it’s in the past now, Jihyo. We can’t do anything about it  _ now _ .” Nayeon hears her own pain, the slowing down of her heart. The constricting in her chest. “I just...I just wished she could have visited me before or...told me sooner.” 

“What makes you think she never did?” 

It’s a question Nayeon doesn’t have a worded answer to but only a heavy pang of silence. She shifts back into her position and looks out the window instead, looking by the opening shops and the old vendors. 

Nearing the end of the side street is the back building of Chaeyoung’s school, but from the direction they're going, what passes by Nayeon’s view is entirely something else. Something that elicits almost a gut-wrenching kind of wistful affection inside of her. 

Along the relatively modern street, Deux stands out like a sore thumb. As if it had been forgotten by time. A memory-inducing machine. 

Nayeon has half the urge to ask Jihyo if they could grab a snack before heading to the office, but she looks at the time on her phone and decides against it. They stop by the red traffic light just across the diner. 

In the morose silence of the car, Jihyo lets out a resigned sigh and gathers the will to ask her best friend, “If you saw her now...would you tell her you loved her?” 

“No.” The past tense of the world hits Nayeon like a train. It’s hard and fast and shocking and painful, and when it leaves, all that’s left is a certain emptiness inside of her. Everything else is broken and in pieces, but the emptiness never leaves. 

“I’d tell her I miss her. I miss  _ us. _ ” 

The traffic light turns green and Nayeon only looks out at the nostalgic diner, watching it disappear from her sight. 

“And then I’d tell her I never stopped loving her.” 

Taking along with it are the wistful affection and momentary happiness from her youth. All that’s left in Nayeon is a sentimental longing.  _ For her. For them. _

“And that I wish...I  _ pray _ ...the universe lets us cross paths again.” 

***

When Jihyo pulls up at her designated parking spot–something about department chiefs having their own space–Nayeon gets out of the Cadillac and the first thing she does is look up. Above her the skies are already turning gloomy, heavy-looking grey clouds paint the sky blue backdrop. 

Nayeon should have known the day’s wonderfully weird bliss would only last a short while. 

***

Some time after winning the cheer-off competition and the heavy confrontation in Jihyo’s office, Nayeon finds herself seeking refuge in the women’s comfort room on the floor above. Only executives and department chiefs were allowed in this area because their offices were on the same floor while the  _ plebeian _ cubicles–just like the one Nayeon worked in–for all the other non-executives and common worker, were located below. 

Considering that most of the employees were having fun downstairs at the open field and the only chief around the area was Jihyo herself, taking a breather in her office, Nayeon decided to take this opportunity and fix herself in the deluxe powder room, dragging with her a heavy gym bag with her change of clothes.

In front of the mirror, Nayeon takes a good look at herself. Apart from the slight smudging of very little eyeliner from the crying that had happened in Jihyo’s office, when Nayeon  _ really _ takes a good look at herself, all the intricacies and the details she never really paid attention to. She’s nearer to her forties now than to her early thirties, and time didn’t pick when it came to leaving inevitable traces. 

At a close look, there are subtle folds and wrinkles. The lines beside her eyes, once bright and fiery onyx now a soft dark brown, were ghosts of warm smiles and boisterous laughter, the type that had her clenching her stomach or having the neighbors filing for noise complaints. 

Her hair had once been wavy and long, running down to a few inches above her waist, flush brown and beautiful. Now it’s tied up in a messy ponytail, disheveled and messy strands poking out from all the movements she’s done the entire afternoon. Taken out of the tie, it would only cascade down to reach at least an inch below her shoulders, slightly black with streaks of dark brown from unmaintained hair coloring sessions. 

Her hair had only been styled to three different lengths her entire life, each a symbol of the triumphant times. Once it was wavy long and dark brown, because cheerleading and walking down school halls felt more empowering and regal when her hair was tied up in a high ponytail, penduluming with every step she took; then it became medium-length bob cut in the 2000s, because having a baby meant less time to maintain any hairstyle and short cuts were all the rage; now it's become a simple shoulder-length one, because it's all about maturity and elegance in the modern times, and the look made her appear like a college girl and not the mother of one.

Nayeon takes pride in the lines of her face. All, despite looking very subtle and could be easily hidden with a dab of concealer, are faint indications of the times she's endured, of the maturity she's grown into, of the wisdom she's gained. Apart from the unnoticeable eyelines and the stretch marks, Nayeon's also gained a few pounds to fit her flesh plump and healthy. The abs are still there although nearly nonexistent with all the company eat-outs, and Nayeon only ever lets her nails get painted a clean, French tip, because she's read about the dangers of the nail polish and she doesn't have time getting them maintained.

The one thing she's gained the most growing up is lost time. Almost everything now is all about never having time, never having time to do things she loves, never having time to stop and just... _ pause.  _ At the back of Nayeon's mind, she briefly wonders... _ what would the others look like now? _

Jihyo stood corrected when she said Nayeon never bothered actually searching for them. That only applied for one person. Nayeon's actually bothered looking for the others, and while she can't say she’s completely accomplished her task–not  _ everyone _ had a social media account and  _ that _ shocked her the most–those she found were the ones she never expected to actually find, and those who remain a mystery to her were the ones she thought should’ve been everywhere on the internet.

Nayeon expected more from Sana and Momo, knowing how those two were always attached to the hip, loud and always bickering fondly at each other. Nayeon had been a firsthand witness to how their relationship had blossomed from shy, almost passing encounters, then bickering endlessly about every trivial matter, and then to suddenly sneaking away from the group to make out and live in their own world. When they got married, the entire group wasn’t even surprised anymore. They became second-parents to Chaeyoung, always spoiling her endlessly. Outside of that, Nayeon really didn’t have the slightest clue what the couple planned to do with their lives, apart from smother each other with love, spoil Chaeyoung to the ends of the world, and enjoy their luxurious life. 

Come to think of it, Nayeon understands now why there are no accounts on the two women. Even back then they were very  _ private  _ people–hiding their relationship for years before Jihyo found out after that party in senior year–and Sana always liked her privacy despite her normally boisterous personality–which, to be frank, is a persona. Sana is normally a shy, private girl–and Momo is never one to put her into an uncomfortable situation even with her own contrasting outgoing personality. 

Sana and Momo have always been at the opposite ends of the spectrum but they always manage to meet halfway, and that’s what makes their love triumph above every other force of nature. The last time Nayeon has seen the two, it was a year after she left with Chaeyoung, and it was through a rare photograph of them in an editorial at the daily newspaper's lifestyle page, about an inspiring Japanese couple’s story of love, life, and family. 

In the picture, Sana and Momo could still pass off as college girls. Sana had striking light wavy long brown hair, naturally set down. She was wearing a white shirt with the same print as the one Momo was wearing, tucked in denim jeans, with a Louis Vuitton purse in her hold. Momo stood beside her, jet black hair flowing down with styled bangs, clad in almost the same attire as Sana but with denim shorts. 

They weren’t looking at the camera. It almost looked as if the photo was taken by a stranger who had just wanted to sneak a picture. Momo was watching the girl standing in front of them, near the lens of the camera, partially caught in the picture however the face had been pixelated out. Sana stood behind them and looked fondly at the two. It seemed as if she was in the middle of saying something, one hand running through her hair, but she was still smiling nonetheless, perfectly captured by the camera. 

Below the article, Nayeon remembered reading a title related to family stories, and Sana and Momo’s were inspiring because they were one of the more famous lesbian couples in a conservative country such as Japan.

Nayeon smiles at that thought. She missed those two. They had always talked about wanting a Chaeyoung of their own before Nayeon left, but Sana was still busy with work and Momo was too afraid to have a child of her own yet, that’s why the two compromised and didn’t consider anything else but themselves and their marriage. 

After that article, Nayeon’s never heard of them again. It was always going to be their privacy and personal life over anything else.

Unlike Sana and Momo, the girl Nayeon least expected to blow up was silent,  _ Miss Perfect _ Mina Myoui. Now she upheld her Miss Perfect title and really did become someone that was faultless to the universe. She was everywhere, modeling and doing ballet. After declining countless offers to perform in Russia after university, Mina opened up a ballet school in Japan and focused there, going first class back and forth Korea and Japan to visit family and friends. 

Although Mina never really let the public get past her  _ public image _ , the wall she had built around her to protect her privacy and personal life, Mina’s face was everywhere fancy and elite. She even modeled Estee Lauder before deciding to just live a simple, slow-paced life in Japan with  _ someone  _ she never revealed who. 

The last time Nayeon had seen Mina, it was a few days before she was about to leave with a nine-year-old Chaeyoung. Mina remained in Nayeon’s life even though, after Jeongyeon went away, Nayeon had expected her not to anymore. Mina had become someone Nayeon didn’t think she would be. She had become a person Nayeon leaned on to for a long time. 

As if a twist of tales, Nayeon ended up forming a close friendship with the girl she once deemed her  _ mortal enemy.  _ Mina had become a refuge for Nayeon when everything felt like a chaotic storm. It was Mina who she sought for a calm, a guiding light. It was Mina she last saw before she decided to leave everything behind; it was Mina who told her to  _ leave. _

The moment they shared was mellow and warm, over an untouched milkshake and a half-emptied iced Americano takeout from Starbucks, in the quieter corner of a familiar diner, away from the boisterous teenagers and drivers passing by for a snack. 

Nayeon can still remember that afternoon as if it happened yesterday–although it happened nearly a decade ago–because it was a memory stored at the back of her mind like a force of habit. 

Back then, Deux seemed like the last place someone like Mina Myoui would be seen dining at. Nayeon would know. She teased Mina endlessly that afternoon despite the underlying heaviness in the atmosphere around them. 

Mina stood out like an expensive Azature manicure amongst bare unpolished nails. She sat as if she was pressed against a wall, straight like a rod, dark brown medium bob tucked behind her ears, beautiful Marc Jacob earrings put out on perfect display. Her trench coat was neatly folded and hanging beside her, on the backrest of the booth seat, leaving her in a plain white blouse. Even outside the parking lot, Mina's black Bugatti Galibier stood out amongst the throng of compact cabover trucks and middle-class sedans. 

The girl had always been able to steer heads her way effortlessly. It’s a Mina Myoui thing, as much as Mina herself hated it. 

***

_ There is a softness in the way Mina carries herself, abound in eloquence and grace, wherein every movement she did alluded almost a ghostly sensation, as if she was as calm as the waves by the shore, and whatever she was doing demanded the gentleness of a mother’s touch to a fragile newborn.  _

_ Nayeon remembers the way Chaeyoung would always soften at the touch of Mina’s fingers, gentle pads running an imaginary line from her soft infant forehead, down to the bridge of her tiny nose, ending on the tip with almost a ghostly tap. Chaeyoung always enjoyed it, giggled whenever Mina would do it even if she had just come from another crying fit. It was only Mina she allowed to do so. Nayeon tried it once but all her baby did was shake her head until Nayeon was forced not to do it anymore for the sake of saving Chaeyoung from a concussion.  _

_ There’s always something about Mina that makes her magical, something that Nayeon never really paid much notice until now.  _

_ In front of her, just across the table that separated them, Mina looks regal even when she’s just breathing, watching strangers walk outside, appearing so calm and collected as if everything in her world is perfectly in place–because it probably is–and there’s nothing to worry about anymore because she’s done it all.  _

_ It’s at that moment, Nayeon realizes the nature of her bygone ill-feelings towards the angelic girl–woman–before her. At some point, Nayeon had wished Mina would be a bitch, would be someone awful enough to be hated. So that Nayeon would end up looking like a knight for Jeongyeon–although it was always the other way around–and that Jeongyeon realizes it's Nayeon she's supposed to be with. But Mina didn't end up becoming the enemy Nayeon wanted her to be. Instead she became someone Nayeon wanted to be like, wanted to have: the calm silence, the tranquility of her life, the gentleness and maturity she has whenever she approached any situation.  _

_ Because Nayeon grew up aggressive and hostile, ready to come at anyone who hurts the people she loves, and she believed survival and happiness warranted only such actions, that Jeongyeon would be hers if she fought for it, be damned whatever way she used. But then Mina came around in all the glory of her elegance and grace, and she treated every matter precisely and maturely, and never came at anyone to the point that it had to be physical, and still got through everything happy and alive in the end, if not more than Nayeon ever was and will be. And Nayeon didn’t even get what she wanted at the end of the day, because Jeongyeon still never returned to her even though she fought for her fucking hard.  _

_ Maybe that’s why they’re here now, tucked in the solitude of a booth somewhere in the quieter corner of the diner, just beside a window big enough for Mina to look out and enjoy the silence while Nayeon squirms in it, dying to ask the woman before her a question she never thought she’d ever ask.  _

_ “Mina, how do you do it?”  _

_ And Mina ever so turns her head to face Nayeon, almost so perfectly cinematic it looked like they were in a melodramatic confrontation, and a small furrow in her brows flashes within a nanosecond before completely fading away, lips changing from a tight-lipped purse to a small smile. “Do what?” _

_ To be frank, Nayeon doesn’t even know what she wants to ask in the first place, because she just has so much.  _ How do you stay so calm even in the most pressuring situations? Why are you so calm? How did you get over Jeongyeon? Will I ever get over Jeongyeon? How are we even friends? Why are you always so perfect?  _ There are a million other more, just floating inside her mind in jumbled letters and fading words, but when the silence between them only weighs down more and pulls Nayeon to the crumbling pressure, she relents to responding with the best way she can— _

_ “Do you know The Tortoise and The Hare?”  _

_ —by applying real-life situations to the bedtime stories she tells her daughter.  _

_ Mina only looks at her with a small frown, eyes narrowing a little. She’s not exactly aware of what Nayeon is trying to imply, so she bobs her head with a small nod, as if telling the girl to go on, and Nayeon does exactly so.  _

_ “You’re like the tortoise, but in a completely good way. You have the world set for you and everything’s perfect. But instead of finishing the race and coming out the champion all by yourself, you calmly wait for everybody else to catch up so that all of you can finish the race together because you’re Mina, and that’s a Mina thing, that’s what you do.”  _

_ Nayeon smiles fleetingly, admiring the woman before her, the same girl she never thought would be sitting in front of her now, softly smiling back. _

_ If someone had told Nayeon before this would happen--with Mina, out of all people–she would have scoffed at the ridiculity of the impossible situation. Because back then, Nayeon and Mina in the same narrative seemed more out of question than Sana and Momo going public with their secret relationship.  _

_ “So yeah, how do you do it?” Nayeon tries to force the ache away, but her smile betrays her with a resigned sigh. There’s a growing heaviness in her chest that she tries to push back every single day, but it only grows even more and now she can’t even breathe properly because it’s taking up so much space. “Can you tell me how you make your life seem so fulfilled? Because I’ve been feeling so fucked up lately and Chaeyoung doesn’t deserve to have a mom so messed up.”  _

_ Although Nayeon ends with a half-assed chuckle, Mina doesn’t seem to believe in it. She doesn’t smile at the girl and only hides a portion of her face behind the mug she brings to her lips, sipping slowly before putting it back down again.  _

_ Underneath the table, Mina uncrosses her legs and Nayeon yelps when the tip of her stiletto accidentally hits her shin.  _

_ It’s only then Mina stops staring at her, as if she’s being studied in detail, and registers they’re in a crowded and bustling diner, and Nayeon is probably waiting for a reply. _

_ All Mina can give, however, is a tilf of her head and a soft smile, almost as if, instead of looking down on Nayeon, she’s admiring her even more.  _

_ “Just because you feel that way doesn’t mean you’re a bad parent, Nayeon.”  _

_ There’s a light tug at Nayeon’s chest, as if someone had taken the other string and helped carry her load. She grabs the milkshake in front of her, melting and untouched, and finally takes a sip.  _

_ “But Chaeyoung doesn’t deserve that. She doesn’t deserve to grow up with a messed-up mom.” The strawberries speak to Nayeon’s soul. It’s Chaeyoung’s favorite. _

_ “You’re human too, Nayeon.” Mina says, eyes gentle with an all-knowing look. “And you can feel sad too. You can feel angry, lonely. All of that doesn’t make any less of a mother to Chaeyoung. It only shows that you’re human too.”  _

_ “I just don’t feel like...me anymore? And I...I don’t want Chaeyoung growing up feeling burdened by her mom’s hopeless love affair—” _

_ Oops. That isn’t supposed to be said out there. Only Jihyo knows about Nayeon’s reckless trip to California, about the sunset at someone’s wedding and the night spent crying. Mina seems to be realizing the context sooner than Nayeon expected–although, she didn’t reckon Mina not being able to, at all–and Nayeon wishes she can take back what she just said because now it only means she has to explain it again and relive the nightmare of seeing the love of her life in someone else’s— _

_ “Take some time away.”  _

_ Nayeon’s trail of thoughts halts. She only squints at Mina, bemused. It’s almost as if the girl had read her thoughts and purposely decided to overlook the slip-up. (Because Mina probably did, sensing the regret in Nayeon’s eyes; because it’s a Mina thing to do, never let anyone feel bad about themselves). _

_ “Looking for your old self doesn’t mean you have to stay in the place where you lost it.”  _

_ Mina knows this to be true herself. When Kobe no longer felt the way it used to be, bright and lively like in Mina’s childhood, her family moved to a new country and started all over again. Although it wasn’t the best of approaches–because running away instead of facing your fears had been generally seen as cowardice–Mina learned later on that looking for refuge didn’t mean she had to stay in the storm. It could mean she can look somewhere else for shelter because the world was wide open for her to see, and only then–if she can and she’s gathered enough strength to–return and face the storm again. _

_ “You don’t get courage the second you realize your fear.” Mina taps on the back of Nayeon’s hand on the counter, unknowingly tracing small lines down the protruding veins. “It’s overwhelming at first, coming in terms with it, and from there it just becomes sort of a chaotic haze, and it’s only after all of that you gather the strength to overcome it. Healing is a process, not something done overnight.”  _

_ “But Chaeyoung—”  _

_ “Do it for her then, if you think you can’t for yourself.” Mina smiles a tight-lipped one, fondly and simple–a Mina thing to do. “Chaeyoung needs her mom more than anything else in the world, and you’re the only person perfect for that role.”  _

_ Nayeon doesn’t say anything else after that–at least, anything remotely linked to the topic–because she doesn’t know how to put into words the relief it brings knowing that Mina understands–that someone understood without any judgment–and Mina never prolonged an emotional moment too much. Besides, Nayeon didn’t want anything more. What Mina said enlightened her, there was no need for any more explanation. What Mina said was enough, and it knocked some sense into her.  _

For Chaeyoung.

_ They only stay for another thirty minutes before Mina looks at her Rolex and decides it’s time to go. She still has to drive Nayeon to Chaeyoung’s school to pick her up, and then head to the airport from there, for a flight four hours away for a business meeting.  _

_ On their walk to Mina’s car outside, a question hangs in Nayeon’s lips in a cheeky way. She walks a few steps behind the trudging Mina, strutting the pavement with her stilettos as if it was a runway and not the front steps of a worn-down diner, and under the scorching afternoon sun showering on them, something in Mina’s hand warranted Nayeon’s attention, glimmering and reflecting the sunlight.  _

_ Nayeon had noticed it since the moment Mina had rested her palms on the table. One thing about the Azature nail polish is that it demanded attention, and when Nayeon did pay it heed, she was attracted not to the real black diamonds of the nail polish but rather, to the little diamond-embedded thin band around Mina’s ring finger.  _

_ Nayeon is just about to bring the topic up, but ultimately decides against it, remembering something else she saw on the thin band, engraved in a small cursive font, one single letter, pushed slightly to the side as if Mina had purposely did so in order to hide it–which, probably, was what she actually did. _

_ There must be a reason behind so, therefore Nayeon doesn’t prod at the topic, not when Mina respected her discomfort and acted only when she was welcomed to, and now that it’s the other way around, Nayeon wants to repay Mina with the same.  _

_ Whatever the reason is, Nayeon doesn’t think too much of it, not when it can mean a thousand things. Mina loves dancing, and dogs, and donburi, and a certain younger girl who’s been taking too long far away.  _

_ The letter glistens in Mina’s ring. A beautiful carved letter  _ **_d._ **

***

“Nayeon, are you there—oh, you are.  _ Thank god. _ ” 

Nayeon’s musings are cut short by the reappearance of her best friend standing at the threshold of the lavatory, letting out a relieved sigh. Jihyo’s changed into a plain shirt and some jeans now, signalling the official end of the company field day. 

When Jihyo sees that she hasn’t changed yet, her first instinct is to ask  _ why _ , but then she realizes Nayeon must have needed a minute to breathe, and decides in the end to just wait for her outside. “Wear something casual though. The boss is paying for dinner at some fancy sushi place to cap off the day.” 

Nayeon frowns at that, eyes Jihyo up and down again. The girl’s already in her fuzzy slip-ons. “What about you? Are you not coming?” 

“Daniel and I have dinner with his parents at home.” 

“Oh…” The prospect of eating with her colleagues is already tiring Nayeon out, but she has a career to build and she still has to make up for the show she did earlier with the Chief Sales Officer. “But will you make it in time for tomorrow?” 

More than anything else, Nayeon needs emotional and mental support for that upcoming meeting with Chaeyoung’s teachers and disciplinary board--and other parents too probably, considering how Ms. Sunmi herself had called in to personally inform them about it. Besides, Nayeon also needs a cool ride to make an entrance at the school, and nothing screams  _ smoking hot _ more than a Cadillac Escalade. 

“Of course?” Jihyo replies with incredulity. “I wouldn’t miss tomorrow for the world!” 

“Hmm...aren’t you  _ too  _ excited?” Nayeon cocks a brow at the surprising animation, because  _ how can a disciplinary sanction hearing get her so turned on?  _

“Um, because tomorrow is Chae—”

But Jihyo’s cut off by the sound of Nayeon’s phone ringing, signalling a message from the office Kakao group about the CEO’s company dinner treat. Nayeon immediately lets out a groan, “Ugh, save it. They’re spamming the group chat about the free food. The company vans are waiting downstairs already.” 

“Oh? You better get changed then.” Jihyo pushes open a vacant stall for Nayeon to change in. “I’ll wait outside.” 

Nayeon changes into a cardigan and jeans, the most casual she has, and joins Jihyo to close her office and head out. By the time they leave the building in their separate ways–Jihyo to her car and Nayeon to the waiting company van–the clouds are already dark grey and heavy, looking a mere few minutes away from letting out its tears. 

***

The CEO is a middle aged man with a balding head. He’s nice when he meets his employees, but remains ultimately professional and cold towards everybody else on a normal basis. Nayeon can count the times she’s seen her boss with one hand but from the words of her co-workers–and Jihyo’s herself–he was a kind man but not to be messed with. 

Judging from the way he clapped his hands at Nayeon’s performance earlier, like a child watching a magic show, and decided to treat the entire company for a field day well done, Nayeon kind of feels relieved her new boss isn’t as misogynistic as the last one, who ultimately even wanted to fire Nayeon after her old insane ex-boyfriend followed her to her office and pleaded for one last chance, twenty years in the making. 

(Nayeon’s gotta admit,  _ Woo Dohwan  _ is one  _ loyal  _ guy for still believing he had a chance with her even after all these years…) 

Nayeon’s new boss now seems to be generous enough to share his luxurious life with the company, no matter how boastful it seemed. He rented out a function room in this fancy sushi restaurant at the other side of the town; one long table for all the employees and another one for the heads and department chiefs. 

The separation had created almost an awkward tension in the room. Nayeon feels out of place, probably because she really is. This is her first company eat-out with the bosses and the entire company, and she doesn’t have enough close co-workers to mingle with during working hours–because she already has Jihyo for that–and now that her only source of comfort (Park Jihyo, again) is not around, Nayeon is suddenly beginning to regret joining for the sake of establishing a formidable image in the company. 

Instead of listening to the conversation going on in her table–there were at least more than five topics being discussed in groups–Nayeon cranes her neck from her seat and takes a good look at the table of bosses who seem to be talking about their bourgeoisie lives with fine wine while the employees’ table shared around bottles of soju. 

The sight of a younger-looking girl stands out in Nayeon’s eyes. She sits beside the Chief Sales Officer–the woman who launched a bouncy ball at Nayeon’s face for being beaten in the cheer-offs (again,  _ real mature _ )–and only shifts her glances between her fidgeting hands on her lap and the table of expensive sushi and wine whenever the conversation prompts for her response. 

Nayeon takes a closer look at the profile. She hasn’t seen the girl earlier at the games, and the latter isn’t dressed enough to look like she’s even an employee of the company, clad in just a camisole crop top and skinny jeans. She looks just about the same age as Chaeyoung. 

Nayeon briefly wonders what someone the girl is doing in their company dinner, but then a sudden noise makes its way to silence the room. Said girl jolts away when a wine glass is shattered in pieces before her, by the very woman Nayeon  _ really _ isn’t fond of at the moment. 

All eyes turn to the direction of the commotion: at the cranky Chief Sales Officer–again, Nayeon  _ hates _ her enough not to know her name–and how she’s suddenly ( _ drunkenly _ ) shouting at the poor, innocent young girl. 

Nayeon can’t comprehend what the CSO is trying to say–something about the girl’s  _ provocative  _ attire–but from the pained look on the girl’s face, she knows the cranky woman’s words are becoming hurtful, not to mention, publicly humiliating because they’re in a company dinner and it’s not really the exact place to start yelling at an innocent girl about how  _ slutty _ she looks. 

When no one attempts to come in between the commotion–even the CEO is taken aback by the outburst–and the girl–who  _ really  _ reminds Nayeon of her own daughter–looks like she’s on the verge of crying, Nayeon, in her miniscule liquid courage, becomes her savior. 

“I don’t think you should be talking to someone like that, Madam.” Nayeon laces her respect with satire, even bowing her head to the CSO as if to show the woman  _ no, you weren’t able to crack my skull in half with your bouncy ball. _

She stands between the middle-aged woman and the trembling girl, unknowingly reaching for her. “Whatever she wears or whatever she’s doing, she’s still a person and you shouldn’t be talking to someone like that! Let alone in front of everyone—”

“Excuse me?” The CSO says indignantly, cocking a brow at Nayeon. Her eyes are hazy and droopy, telltale signs of her alcohol consumption. “Mind your own business, Miss Cheerleader. I’m talking to my daughter.” 

_ Oh. She’s her daughter?  _ Nayeon hears a yelp from the girl behind her when the CSO lunches herself at them, attempting to yank the girl.  _ Poor kid. _

Thankfully, Nayeon’s reflexes are still solid as _ fuck _ and her heart genuinely tightens at the thought of someone as pure-looking as the girl behind her, having to deal with such a harsh drunken grown-up ( _ parent _ ). “Shouldn’t that give you more reasons to be nicer to her? What kind of mother would  _ shame _ her own daughter for what she’s wearing!? You shouldn’t even be getting mad at her! She’s rocking her outfit! You should be proud!”

“DON’T TEACH ME HOW TO BE A MOTHER, MISS IM! YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!” The CSO’s tone rattles the entire function room, even the whimpering girl behind Nayeon is silenced. Nayeon herself feels like she’s been slashed in half, her face splashed with an ice cold bucket of reality.

She realizes the CSO’s words are heavily influenced by the fact that no one–aside from Jihyo–knows that Nayeon has a daughter, an 18-year-old at that. Everyone thinks she’s just a pretty face at the public relations department, the new hot lady in town (Nayeon knows what everyone in the building had been calling her. It’s not even about flattering herself anymore). 

There’s a multitude of risks at proclaiming the truth. Woo Dohwan  _ might  _ still not be over Nayeon even though he says he is during their last encounter (which wasn’t longer than two years ago) and he might track her down or something (although Jihyo  _ doubts _ that’ll happen–this  _ isn’t  _ a drama); Everyone’s going to start looking down at Nayeon for being a single mom and a young one at that; and worst case scenario, she gets demoted and rid of benefits (although there aren’t any at the moment). 

Her  _ greatest _ worry is Chaeyoung. 

Nayeon can’t afford to let  _ anyone _ lay a hand on her daughter. But Nayeon can’t help when she sees the girl behind her– _ hears _ her soft cries–and looks at the searing condescending anger painted on the eyes of the CSO, the girl’s  _ own mother _ . 

Nayeon can’t help but throw everything away. Be damned if they all know that she’s not as  _ young _ as they fantasize her to be; Be damned if anyone gossips about her and thinks they’re all better just because she’s a single mom.

_ Chaeyoung wouldn’t want me to stay silent in a situation like this. _ In fact, if her daughter was with her, Chaeyoung wouldn’t have second thoughts on answering back. She’d launch herself first before Nayeon could even get the chance to formulate anything to say. 

Nayeon, fueled by a sudden surge of all-knowing  _ motherly _ confidence, lashes back, “I’M A MOM TOO! I KNOW HOW THIS WORKS! IT DOESN’T TAKE ONE TO KNOW YOU’RE NOT BEING A GOOD PARENT TO YOUR CHILD!”

If the awkward silence from the CSO’s words hushed the entire room, the stillness from Nayeon’s sudden  _ revelation _ practically elicits almost a dramatic pause. At the far corner of the room, someone even drops a bottle of soju on the floor, inducing a shattering, dramatic sound. In a soap opera, this would be the moment the main character reveals a truth bomb. 

The middle-aged woman’s face morphs from a confused frown to something almost furious, livid. She retaliates with her words, a horrible snicker resounding in the room. 

“What a poor child.” 

It’s almost as if all the alcohol had been flushed down from the woman’s system, replaced by seething anger and condescension. She’s the same height as Nayeon but even when she struggles to take a step closer, the way she looks Nayeon up and down has the latter feeling slightly regretful of the unabashed, impulsive decision she’s just made to reveal something that, in retrospect, sounded completely unnecessary. 

_ Oh shit. _

In hindsight, everything about Nayeon has aged but her recklessness never really left. When the thought of proclaiming about Chaeyoung came into her mind, the response she anticipated was for the CSO to shut up and realize that she didn’t have any right shaming her own child and belittling Nayeon just because she “wasn’t a mom” and that she didn’t understand what being a parent is like. Nayeon expected for a compromise or at least, for the tension in the room to settle down because the poor girl behind her is now a crying fit. 

What Nayeon  _ does _ get is a scornful, half-suppressed laugh from the CSO, “I pity your child.” 

And Nayeon  _ really  _ wants to throw a punch at the woman, but the girl behind her is holding her arm back.  _ Damn it. _

The woman gets the upper hand for now. “She's growing up with a mother who thinks she knows everything but doesn’t. Did you hide her for this long so that you can run around free? Did you put that  _ tremendous _ show out there to get into the—” 

That is, until she mentions Chaeyoung in this and Nayeon just  _ loses  _ it. 

The bottled up anger from desperately trying to be  _ mature _ the entire day has Nayeon overflowing. She woke up today hoping it would be a wonderful one– _ knowing _ it would be a wonderful one–but the universe only continues to prove to her that it hates her, that nothing remotely nice can go her way without lasting for a moment only. 

Nayeon doesn’t even regret it when the smack resonates around the room like a thunderous bolt, and the drunken woman stumbles back when Nayeon’s palm hits her cheek, loud and forceful enough to mimic the way  _ her _ bouncy ball hit Nayeon’s face earlier. 

What follows next is Nayeon’s regret and satisfaction all combining up and pushing her out of that function room with a dramatic exit. She doesn’t look back on the eyes, boring holes at her skull, or the murmurs of her co-workers after that  _ intense _ moment.

Nayeon lets the breeze of the night pull at her to whatever direction, just to allow herself some space for breathing air. She walks and walks away, letting the world pass by her in a whirlwind of subdued noises. 

There are vacant cabs driving around, the streets are bustling with people trying to get home after a long day’s work, and open boutiques show off ads with faces of the popular trends and idols nowadays. Across the pedestrian lane, a waiting shed displays the time. It’s ten o’clock. 

Nayeon doesn’t see anything though. In her eyes, everything else is a blurry haze. 

When the day began, Nayeon thought the universe was on her side. But then, little by little, her heaven had turned into hell, and her greatest fear in life–of  _ never _ being enough for Chaeyoung–is  _ always _ being slapped on her face, as if she’s carrying around the title of  _ worst parent _ like a scarlet letter. Somehow the universe always finds a way to remind Nayeon of it. Whatever she does, it’s never going to be enough for her daughter. 

Nayeon walks and lets the universe pull her to wherever it wants to, hoping it would bring her home or at least to any place that can bring her to her senses; Ultimately, the plan backfires when she realizes she doesn’t have the energy of a teenager anymore, and dealing with drama has a repercussion of mental exhaustion and walking for  _ miles _ is not helping her any further–especially if it’s at night. 

Nayeon decides to stop and take a seat by the cold, damp pavement to take a breath. She’s taken a side street, not as bustling as the main road, to avoid the crowd and potential death if she ever gets mugged. Besides, taking this detour is faster and nostalgia-inducing. Ever since passing by Deux again earlier this morning, Nayeon can’t get the diner out of her head. There’s something about it that sparked a certain curiosity in Nayeon. 

It’s only when someone taps on her shoulder does she realize she’s not alone anymore, and the perils of walking down a side street at night is just the same as walking down a bustling main avenue. Nayeon almost launches into self-defense mode, jumping up and out of the way to do her best imitation of a karate pose. 

“I couldn’t help but see you from outside the diner.” Fortunately, it’s just an old lady who greets her with a soft smile. “Are you okay?” 

_ Diner? _

Nayeon looks behind the shorter old lady and sees the worn-down structure a few feet away.  _ Oh.  _ She definitely did not expect that her hazy walking would end up exactly here. Either way it’s quite nice–if not eerie–that it did, because the nostalgia inside of Nayeon only heightens more. 

Naturally, Nayeon eyes the old woman up and down.  She has faded white hair tied in a low and messy ponytail behind her, strands falling at the sides of her wrinkled and soft-looking face. With a low grunt, she takes a seat on the pavement just beside where Nayeon used to, and ushers for her to sit down too. 

There’s an almost uncanny magnetic pull to follow the older woman. Nayeon sits down too, for the sake of company and out of respect. (and the compelling enchanted aura of the old woman and the diner behind them).

“You seem to look like you need an ear to listen.” Her voice is old and guttural and raspy, but soft enough that Nayeon seems to be completely hypnotized to tell herself out to a complete stranger. 

Maybe it’s the motherly aura the old woman has–and how Nayeon’s never had one like that before–or the way she spared her time and sat down on the pavement to listen to a complete stranger too. Whatever it is, Nayeon does exactly what she’s told to do, and for once, temporarily lets go of the weight in her chest. 

“I’m a failure.” 

It’s a simple sentence that summarizes the entire chaos in Nayeon’s head. Three words that abridge the overwhelming pain and frustration of never being enough. She’s had it with the world, always making sure Nayeon realizes her shortcomings. That she is a failure in all aspects of the word. Failure as a person. As a friend. As a mom. 

Nayeon lets everything out–at least, everything that her mind can put into words. From the confrontation with Jihyo to the commotion at the company dinner, Nayeon goes through everything and by the time she feels like a quarter of the weight in her chest is lifting up, she realizes she’s been crying her heart out to the old woman, fresh trails of warm tears streaming down her cheeks. 

It’s overwhelming. Everything is overwhelming. If growing up required this much pain to endure, Nayeon would have gladly stayed young and reckless–but she can’t wish for that now, can she? Not when she has Chaeyoung now and...and a world without her daughter doesn’t look like a world Nayeon can bear to live in.

“There’s no guide to being a good mother.” The old woman finally says, breaking the tranquility of the night. 

Nayeon thinks beside her, the world doesn’t feel so tight and suffocating. “I know that”, she lets out a hiccup from the crying, forcefully wiping away at her tears. “It’s just that I wish Chaeyoung would realize I’m trying too. That I  _ do _ really want to be a better mom for her. All I want is for her to realize she's my happiness, that all I need in this world is her.” 

There’s a second of silence that passes, more like a  _ pause _ , before a shift in the atmosphere when the old woman asks her, “You wish for that?” 

But Nayeon doesn’t hear her question. She only continues heaving in between her tears, trying to voice out the words that wrap around her chest like a metal chain, constricting it and holding it down.

“I wasn’t supposed to do this alone.” It leaves her lips like a statement to herself more than to the old woman listening to her intently. “She...She was supposed to be here too. She promised me and I waited! She would have been the better parent, the favorite one. She was supposed to come back.”

Nayeon realizes she’s spent most of her life trying to forget Jeongyeon but always failing to do so, and in the repercussions of her desperate search for a lost love, she’s managed to hurt her own daughter too. 

Yoo Jeongyeon exists in the in-betweens of Nayeon’s life. The pause before a heartbeat. The second before an exhale. In the hesitations of her smile. Forgetting Jeongyeon had done exactly the opposite. All Nayeon had ached for was the woman who promised but never returned.  _ Is this karma for all the times I’ve left her? Is this the universe finally giving me what I deserve?  _

“It takes sadness to know what happiness feels like.” The old woman whispers, in her old woman voice, sounding omniscient and high-minded but still laced with the soft tone of a grandmother. “First you must endure the turmoil before you get to the destination.”

“That’s nice.” Nayeon sniffs bitterly, “Do you want me to cross stitch that on a pillow?” 

Thankfully the old woman isn’t affected by the dripping sarcasm. “Bad things will always happen but there will be good to them too. You just have to believe that.” 

Nayeon wants to scoff at that, because  _ what the hell is that supposed to mean?  _ Does she have to torture more for her to meet the better side of the universe? Just as she's about to ask (complain) about the  _ wisdom _ , Nayeon is cut off by the old woman suddenly standing up fraily, grunting in the process.

Nayeon only watches with a crease on her face. “Where are you going?” She wipes at her tears with the back of her hand and stands up on her feet as well. 

“I best get back inside.” The old woman pats at the behind of her diner uniform. She looks up at Nayeon with a smile. “I’m still waiting for a customer.” 

Nayeon looks behind the old woman, at the diner. Its lights are already turned off and the sign by the glass door at the side is already turned, displaying a heavily-bold **CLOSED.** _But it’s already closed?_

“But—”

“You should be on your way too.” The old woman pats at her shoulder. “Something big awaits you.” 

Nayeon doesn’t understand anything and blames it on her foggy mind and thinking, but when she’s just about to ask the old woman for some more enlightening on the matter, she’s already walking away, back to the diner. Nayeon calls out for her but it’s to no avail. At the absence of the peculiar company, she feels like an entirely new aura surround her. Something attributed to a force beyond scientific understanding or the laws of nature. Something... _ unnaturally great and overwhelming. _

It’s powerful enough to ease the tension inside Nayeon as she begins walking away, but it’s also overwhelming enough that Nayeon feels inclined to brace herself inside. It feels like her world’s going to break tonight. 

_ Something big awaits. _

***

It takes about fifteen more minutes before Nayeon arrives home. She pays the taxi driver her fare and steps out of the cab, letting herself get engulfed by the night’s cold breeze. 

By the front gate, Nayeon’s beige-bricked bungalow stands like a disappointment along a street of contemporary and suburban houses. The front gate was broken before, during an accident where Nayeon had driven Daniel’s Kia into it. 

Looking back at it now, Nayeon had been given a lot of chances to move out of the home and into a more modern complex, probably somewhere far away from Apgujeong, where her memories haunt her still. But moving out meant giving up, and Nayeon promised herself–just like what Mina had told her before–to return meant to make amends with her past. The house, although worn-down and neglected, had been Nayeon and Chaeyoung’s home ever since they moved back after living in Seoul for a few years. It was a witness to many outburst, fights, and arguments, but it was also a place of growth, happiness, and love–no matter how  _ disappointing  _ it looked like. 

_ (And besides, staying in Apgujeong meant waiting and hoping. Hoping for her. Waiting for them. To all meet again one day.) _

Nayeon walks down the short cobblestone pathway that leads to the front door. She unlocks it and steps inside, into the cold and murky living space. 

The disappointment that her daughter isn’t the first sight she sees after a long,  _ tiring _ day grows at the back of Nayeon’s head, weighs down at her chest. Back then it used to be like that. Chaeyoung would be in the living room watching a drama or just lounging by herself, and just seeing her made Nayeon uplifted. Nowadays everything always feels hurried and halfhearted. 

“Chae?” Nayeon calls out but to no response. She disposes her shoes by the rack near the door and walks further inside the house. The only indication that her daughter’s home is the sliver of light coming from down the hall to the master’s bedroom, through what looks like the small space between the door and its frame. 

_ That’s weird… _ Chaeyoung’s room is at the opposite side of the house.  _ Is she in my room? _

Nayeon walks towards the sliver of light. It’s not that she doesn’t allow her daughter to her room. Heck, earlier that morning they had just been inside, doing a changing montage. It just felt out of the ordinary to have Chaeyoung inside at night. Her daughter’s never—

_ Wait. That’s not my room… _

“Chaeyoung, what are you—” 

And as if she had just been caught red-handed (because in a way, she probably was), Chaeyoung spins around in a jolt, to look up at the towering figure of her mother. 

Nayeon doesn’t understand. She had clearly told Chaeyoung  _ long ago _ the storage room is off-limits. It’s clearly too dirty and unkempt inside and Chaeyoung has allergic rhinitis; it’s not good for her to be confined in such a space let alone touching dusty mementos—

“What. Are. You. Doing. With  _ that _ ?” Nayeon’s world stops. Around her daughter, scattered on the floor, are pictures kept away, hidden from the world, and in Chaeyoung’s hold is a  _ historic  _ yellow post-it containing the very words that break Nayeon’s heart all over again. 

What happens next is a whirlwind series of hurtful words and misunderstood emotions. Nayeon regrets everything the moment they leave her lips, and when she sees the pain in her daughter’s eyes, she wants to burn the whole world down for hurting Chaeyoung but she can’t. Because she promised she’d end anyone who hurt her daughter, but she can’t do that now, not when the cause of her daughter’s pain is her too. 

Nayeon tries to take them back now but no apology escapes her quivering lips. She tries to reach for Chaeyoung's hand, to hold it for whatever purpose she can't think of, but Chaeyoung recoils away in an instant, as if a monster had reached out for her.

That monster is Nayeon. 

No other pain can compare now. Not even the day Jeongyeon didn’t return. Not even the day she walked down to a different person. Nayeon’s built her life around Chaeyoung, and seeing the way she’s hurting now makes Nayeon feel utterly useless.  _ Never enough. _

“Oh, I almost forgot." Chaeyoung presses the side of her phone to illuminate the device and flashes it right at Nayeon's face.  **11:10.** "I wasn't really planning on telling you this but I guess you can know now." 

Nayeon tries to figure it out, the cryptic message Chaeyoung is trying to relay, but her body betrays her and puts on a perplexed frown. 

Chaeyoung replies with a bitter scoff. "It's my birthday later. In case you didn’t know."

And, it’s at that moment, it dawns on Nayeon, Jihyo’s animated reponse when she asked about tomorrow.  _ Jihyo was excited. She wouldn’t miss tomorrow for the world...because tomorrow is Chaeyoung’s birthday. _

_ Fuck. _

“Chae—”

"Don't. Even. Bother." Chaeyoung narrows her eyes at Nayeon before uttering, "I'm leaving."

She stomps past Nayeon and walks down the hall. It takes about a second of shock before Nayeon realizes her daughter is about to run out on her. She chases after Chaeyoung but she’s halted in her step when she sees the younger girl standing by the door, holding the knob with her back turned against her mother. It almost looks as if she’s hesitating, and Nayeon  _ wishes–prays– _ she is, because she can’t afford to lose her daughter too. 

"Where are you going?!"

Of course, Nayeon’s prayers are never heard. 

Chaeyoung opens the door, "To celebrate my birthday somewhere away from you.” 

And Nayeon, rooted in place and frozen in shock, only watches in unbearable agony as her daughter leaves her too. 

***

The trauma from watching everyone she ever loved in her life leave her has Nayeon staring at the door, wide open, unable to move and comprehend a single thought of what just happened–all the exact movements from every single time someone had walked out on her.

Her lower body feels numb enough not to move a muscle, and her upper body feels increasingly in pain that all she can do is the bare minimum--she stares, with her eyes unblinking and her mouth partly open, breathing heavily to regain some sort of semblance with her body. 

Down the cobblestone pathway, the gate is left wide open, shouting at Nayeon’s face. She wants to run, chase after Chaeyoung, but the tears get to her first, and when she gets up on her feet and fights through the fears that hold her down, by the time Nayeon gets past the gate, down the empty street, Chaeyoung is already nowhere to be found. 

“CHAEYOUNG!” Nayeon shouts the loudest she can. She runs down to her left and shouts Chaeyoung’s name over and over again, up until her lungs and her throat feel like they’re burning up, _whatever._ She runs while the tears trail down her face. She runs until her legs can no longer move, and when she falls on the ground, Nayeon feels like she’s hit rock bottom.

Jihyo arrives a few minutes later, to save Nayeon because that's what she does. That's what she's taken herself for. The first thing she does is hug her best friend a tight embrace, as if wishing it'd glue back all the broken pieces again; and the second thing she does is promise to look for Chaeyoung while Nayeon waits at home. 

"N-No! I need to…" Nayeon doesn't even get to take a pause. She's heaving miniscule breaths to even her erratic heart. “I need to find her, Jihyo. I can’t...just stay and—” 

“ _ We’ll  _ find her, Nayeon.” Jihyo pulls her best friend up to her car and locks the seatbelt around Nayeon. “I  _ promise _ we won’t stop. You just have to wait at the house in case she comes back, okay?” 

To that, Nayeon can’t fight anymore. Because she takes Jihyo’s word for it. Jihyo won’t stop until she finds Chaeyoung. Jihyo loves Chaeyoung just as much as Nayeon does. “P-Promise?” 

Jihyo presses a soft kiss at the side of Nayeon’s side. “I promise.” 

Nayeon can’t say she’s settled down, that her nerves aren’t tense and about to burst already. Her heart beats as if it wants to break out of her chest. Her stomach churns as if it wants to vomit out Nayeon’s entire insides. 

She can’t– _ won't _ –feel at ease as long as Chaeyoung isn’t by her side. So even if the heavens don’t grant her prayers anymore and she’s long given up on that phase of her life, for this one night Nayeon prays– _ begs _ –the universe not to do it this time. Nayeon’s had enough. 

_ Not Chaeyoung. Please don’t take her away. _

***

(Nayeon doesn’t sleep that night. Doesn’t bat an eyelash. 

She sits by the threshold of the front door, stares at the opened gate, and waits for Chaeyoung to come back home.) 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no words kjsdfhkjfh welcome to present again. 
> 
> the cliffhanger will be answered shortly--if you think this chapter hasn't already. *wink* 
> 
> also, i just felt like i had to put light in this. nayeon's side of things in the present, the growth and the way time changes people. 
> 
> i hope you all enjoyed!
> 
> #Twicein1998


	15. fuck the universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Although they're not yet complete–because god knows Chaeyoung needs to prep her mom first before pushing her off to war–Chaeyoung knows all she has to do is wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternative title: tragic swan songs  
> lternative alternative title: that voice (because i mentioned it far too many times)  
> alternative x3 title: right time right moment
> 
> WHEN I SAID BUCKLE UP, I REALLY DID MEAN IT  
> THIS IS LIKE, ONE FUCKING GYRO DROP
> 
> This is for maria. Because i miss her comments and words of encouragement.

"People talk about us in mere tragedy,  
but infrequent are tragedies  
that do not have  
a speck of hope,  
a dreg of happiness,  
a split-second joy."  
  


\- _We were happy too._ Seventy Years of Sleep  
nikka ursula (n.t)

* * *

The thing Chaeyoung first sees is cold and dirty asphalt beneath her stretched-out legs, puddles of water here and there. Like the first time she had been there, Chaeyoung’s sat on the ground. Her eyes move slowly up to the sides of her thighs, where she sees familiar-looking strawberry-printed pajamas. 

The second detail follows a little later on, when Chaeyoung notices how she’s leaning on the diner’s glass door, cold and frosted. Above her is a door sign that says a big, black and bold **CLOSED**.

The third detail comes in lightning speed, from the way the sun glares down on her figure from above. It’s daytime—morning, specifically.

The fourth and last detail is the most terrifying one.

There’s a girl standing at the end of the alley, just by the turn, in all of her statuesque glory. Chaeyoung doesn't need any other detail than the voice that calls out her name, with much confusion and shock, to know who it is. 

"Chaeyoung?" 

_Oh wow. Is the mission already starting?_

Chaeyoung tries to shake off the glaring heaviness in her head. 

The pain is dulling and overwhelming, and she honestly wants to vomit from the nausea but nothing comes out of her system. She wholly regrets not asking for a guide from the kind old lady, or at least an aspirin for the nausea that comes after whenever she does something relatively connected with the concept of movement between certain points in time. 

She blames the throbbing pain in her head and deems it easily the best justification for the tall girl standing at the end of the alley, currently making her way towards Chaeyoung, hurriedly ending a call with someone else. 

_A hallucination perhaps?_

But then even after an excessive amount of squinting and blinking, Chaeyoung finds Chou Tzuyu nearing her, in all the glory of her raw and innate beauty, even in the casual clothes she’s in. 

“Chaeyoung? Are you okay?”

It’s on the first touch, the warmth brought by the first person she sees, that Chaeyoung actually deems the universe’s sense of humor commendable. Of course the first person they send to her is someone who is the _epitome_ of the present time, someone whom–at first sight–Chaeyoung would instantly remember from _her_ time and not in 1998. The humor of the universe is found in the underlying sly innuendo of the situation. 

Of all the people it could send to Chaeyoung–it could have been _Yerim_ or Rosie, or her _mother_ and aunt themselves to make the entire predicament easier–the universe just had to send Chou Tzuyu. Tzuyu in all the raw splendor of her natural beauty, the one her cheer uniform always hides away. Now she’s only in a white long sleeve and loose trousers, light brown hair tied up in a high ponytail with strands hanging by the sides of her face, perfectly framing it. 

Chaeyoung can’t seem to wrap her mind around the thought of seeing Tzuyu _again_. It might be the overwhelming sensation of being back in her time–when she thought she’d never be able to return–or the fact that this is the closest she’s gotten to be with the girl she’s been crushing on ever since the summer camp last year; whatever it is, all that’s left of Chaeyoung is an outer shell of widened eyes and an agape mouth, heart pounding against her chest in an erratic beat, intensing with every step Tzuyu takes until she’s crouched down in front of Chaeyoung, and then it’s the end of her. 

“Do you need me to call an ambulance? Are you hurt?” Tzuyu frantically searches the entirety of Chaeyoung’s physical body without laying any other touch–the single indication that, although they share a mutual understanding of their feelings for each other, the reality of their situation is far more important than blurring the lines between them furthermore. 

(In other words, Chaeyoung is going through the aftermath of travelling between periods of time, and Tzuyu is going through the aftermath of their hazy relationship with one another. 

Summer flings are _always_ harder when it’s no longer _just a fling_ )

Chaeyoung wills herself to snap out of it. The hospital as her first destination after a lengthy period of staying in 1998— _wait a minute._

“What day is it today?” 

Chaeyoung looks back on the _months_ she’s been in 1998. She’s completed two seasons in that bravura of a year, namely spring and summer, and just thinking about missing out two months of school in 2018 is already giving Chaeyoung another throbbing migraine. She can’t handle having to catch up with so much overwhelming work, not to mention having to fabricate a precise and elaborate excuse that can convince her teachers and Yerim to believe her and give her consideration. 

_Oh my god, Yeri. What the hell am I going to tell her?_

Chaeyoung weighs between not returning at all anymore and just starting a new life somewhere else or making a story about getting abducted by aliens and being forced to work for an underground mafia gang, but then Tzuyu reaches for her forehead and the slightest touch of her warm hand on Chaeyoung’s skin immediately reels her back to reality.

_This is her reality now._

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tzuyu asks again, concern in her tone intensifying. For a brief moment when Chaeyoung makes the courageous act of meeting the taller girl’s eyes, Chaeyoung sees the girl she’s spent an entire summer with, making paper flowers and talking about the stars. 

And then Tzuyu blinks and Chaeyoung notices she’s staring. She immediately looks away. “I...uh...yeah. Just a headache…” 

“What are you doing here? Did you sleep here?” Tzuyu helps her up when Chaeyoung stumbles at her attempts to do so, legs feeling jelly with pins and needles poking at her feet. 

“No...Yes? Uh...I mean…” _oh my god what do I tell her?_ “I...I really don’t remember anything…?”

Tzuyu looks like she’s thoroughly trying to understand a crazy person and Chaeyoung feels like she’s that lunatic uttering about pure gibberish. The taller girl maintains the ever-so worried and soft furrow in her brows, forehead lined with creases and her lips pressed into an arc frown, unable to formulate a response other than what would probably be an insulting _what?_

Chaeyoung should have known. She should have taken that free trial improv class Dahyun joined the week before the party. Maybe then she’d do better at convincing people of her lies. 

Quite frankly, under Tzuyu’s intent gaze, Chaeyoung feels like she’s about to combust in her place. The taller, still undoubtedly drop dead gorgeous girl has one palm pressed flat against the glass door, beside Chaeyoung’s head, as if trying to steady herself in her position, while the other rests on the ground beside Chaeyoung’s knee. To how did this position come to be? Chaeyoung does not have an answer. But what she _is_ sure of is the fluttering butterflies in the pit of her stomach, leaving her embarrassingly squirming underneath Tzuyu’s fixed gaze. 

It’s almost as if Tzuyu is trying to read through Chaeyoung’s eyes, see through the windows of her soul. It’s probably what she’s actually doing because then that would explain the question that leaves Tzuyu’s lips right after, the one that has Chaeyoung coming down from her _gay panicking._

“Are you…” Tzuyu gulps. “High?” 

_What._

“What?” 

The foggy haze in Chaeyoung’s head clears up just like that. It’s comical if not downright appalling that Tzuyu would actually think Chaeyoung is capable of such. She doesn’t even smoke. Why the hell would she do drugs?

“You think I’m... _on drugs?_ ” 

“N-No!” Tzuyu looks just as horrified as her assumption. It kicks in that she hasn’t really thought of it very much and just impulsively let it slide past her rationality. _Of course, she wouldn't do that! Stupid Tzuyu!_ “I-I meant that...I...uh…” _for god’s sake, get out with it!_ “I wasn’t assuming anything! I just...I saw you and you...you looked lost and...I couldn’t think of any other explanation...and—” 

“No, it’s okay.” Chaeyoung doesn’t register the chuckle that leaves her lips. For the first time since coming back–although, it hasn’t been _that_ long to begin with–she finds herself smiling foolishly at the girl who’s, for the lack of better term, _ghosted_ her. 

It’s always an adorable sight to see when the formidable Chou Tzuyu gets flustered and stammers with her words. It reminds Chaeyoung of the girl she met at the summer camp, intimidating and reserved but quirky at closer glance. 

Chaeyoung doesn’t hold grudges against people–especially ones who remain lovingly in her heart–so attempting to be petulant over Tzuyu’s lack of replies and decision to pretend she doesn’t exist–that their _summer camp escapades_ didn’t exist–is very much a futile endeavor, especially when it’s been nearly a year since that summer camp and she still hasn’t gotten over the cheerleader. 

A moment of silence passes by between them before Tzuyu stands up and towers over Chaeyoung, patting at her trousers and fixing her shirt. “Do you want me to take you home? My mom’s car is just around the corner. I can drive you back.” 

Chaeyoung can’t keep her eyes off of the girl before her. Tzuyu is a _giant_ beside Chaeyoung, but she’s not a _bad_ giant–the goliath type or whatever–she’s a supermodel giant, the one that has Chaeyoung looking like a dwarf beside Snow White herself. 

“Uh...okay?” She stumbles to a stand and grabs Tzuyu’s hand for help when she offers it. Considering the option of walking back to her house isn’t a mere plan in Chaeyoung’s mind. Not when she can barely pull herself up to a stand and maintain her balance.

After a hesitant minute and about a few embarrassing attempts to reach out, Tzuyu decides to bulldoze through the big invisible barrier of awkward tension between them and assist Chaeyoung to her car, parked just outside the alley, by the sidewalk. She wraps an arm around the smaller girl’s body and walks her out, definitely trying hard _not_ to overanalyze the way their bodies fit perfectly against each other’s as if they were made for one another. 

Once outside the narrow walls of the alleyway, Chaeyoung feels like entering a whole new world again. The sun shines down on her perfectly and almost blindingly, she has to shield her eyes away with her hand. The breeze here blows warmer and more befouled with present-day pollution, and a moderate flow of upgraded vehicles drive along the asphalt road in front of them, outstanding in their monotonous achromatic colors and average 120-horsepower engines.

Across the street, a familiar expressionist graffiti adorns the wall behind an old high school building. Written in distinctive curly font and designed with a personal rendition of Edvard Munch’s The Scream, blinding and screaming at every passerby is Chaeyoung’s own masterpiece with its own vaunting slogan, “ **yeah sex is cool but have u ever been fucked by the system??** ”.

Chaeyoung feels an incredible amount of pride swell in the pit of her stomach. Suddenly, being back in the present is even more overwhelming than before. In this world, she can no longer pretend her world only revolved around finding the love of her mother’s life and playing the universe. In this time, _her time_ , Chaeyoung has to deal with her reality again. A reality where she _doesn’t_ have a Jeongyeon unnie to protect her from the world; where she _doesn’t_ have her aunts Sana, Momo, and Mina to rely on; a reality where she _doesn’t_ have her _bro_ anymore; and most of all, a sad actuality where Nayeon isn’t just her closest _unnie_ anymore but her actual _mom_ now, and Chaeyoung just left her all alone. 

( _“Your mother’s life was messy and chaotic, and tiring and misunderstood. Until you came and became her happiness.”_ )

Chaeyoung is more than welcome to lament in her thoughts and drown in the guilt of misunderstanding her mother, but her thoughts soon become occupied by the hyper-aware realization that Tzuyu is leading her to a familiar-looking sports car parked by the side of the street.

It’s only when taller girl lets go of her hold around Chaeyoung’s frame, pulls out a set of keys from her pocket, presses it down the door handle’s keyhole, and pulls the driver’s seat door open, that it dawns on Chaeyoung _this_ familiar vintage vehicle is Tzuyu’s--that Tzuyu _driving_ will be the death of her--and if Chaeyoung isn’t mistaken, someone else from the past used to drive the same expensive car. 

Chaeyoung just _can’t_ distinguish the difference between a coincidence and destiny. 

“Chaeyoung?” Tzuyu’s voice snaps Chaeyoung out of her thoughts. The taller girl is already standing by the passenger’s seat door, holding it open. When Chaeyoung makes no effort to move, she queries worryingly, “Do you feel anything? The nearest hospital is a few minutes away. I can call--”

“O-Oh, no...I...it’s okay…” Chaeyoung shakes her head in an effort to rattle her mind back to its senses. “Just a headache. I’m fine.” 

She makes her way around the vehicle’s front and settles inside the passenger’s seat, melting into the softness of the leather covers and the faint scent of floral aroma mixed with woody notes. When Tzuyu steps inside a little later, and turns on the engine of the car, roaring it to life, Chaeyoung has no choice but to put her focus elsewhere, away from the drop-dead gorgeous girl driving beside her, asking for her address. 

“Uh…” Somehow, Chaeyoung can’t remember what her goddamn address is. The only address in her mind is the old dorm’s, because Dahyun always had food delivered at the back, accepted through a makeshift pulley by the window of hers and aunt Jihyo’s room, made out of tied blankets and towels. 

Chaeyoung can’t even remember what the hell her actual house looks like. “I’ll just...tell you the directions.”

Thankfully, Tzuyu doesn’t analyze Chaeyoung’s unusual behavior as a side-effect of drugs. 

While Tzuyu navigates through the moderate flow of cars down the main road, Chaeyoung distracts herself with the intricacies of the splendid car, trying to erase the thoughts of being just an arm’s length away from the girl she’s been crushing on ever since their meeting, replacing it with the painful reality that it’s also the same girl who’s _ghosted_ her for nearly a year--until today, that is. 

The refurbished interior of the car sits in between classic luxury and modern touch. The retained compartment and dashboard exhibit its vintage feel while the flush comfort of the cream-colored leather seats and its almost-muffled engine sound exude its well-maintenance and upgraded modernity. 

Chaeyoung’s eyes land on the numbers displayed on the atomic clock in the old stereo system. With the very little semblance of functionality her hazy mind has, she tries to calculate the time difference between the night she remembers leaving with this morning’s **9:01.**

“Tzuyu, you haven’t answered my question yet...” Chaeyoung trails off, mindlessly staring at the flickering numbers before her. _It’s been nine hours._ “What date is it today?”

Beside her, Tzuyu sports a small furrow in her brows. She peaks a short glance at the girl beside her before turning back to the front road. “Um, April 23rd?” 

“Oh my god.” A low gasp escapes Chaeyoung’s lips. She feels her heart drop to the pit of her stomach. “It’s still my birthday…” 

The car abruptly jerks to a stop. Chaeyoung’s head pushes forward and then crashes on the headrest forcefully, effectively rattling her brain in the process, a much needed shake. 

She feels a headache creeping in again. “Why’d you stop the car!?” 

Behind them, other cars blow their horns. Tzuyu doesn’t seem, at the very least, concerned she’s just stopped at a green light and is causing a miniature traffic jam. Her face remains planted on staring at Chaeyoung with widened eyes and a slacking jaw.

“It’s your _birthday_ today?” 

Chaeyoung only nods with a groan, feeling the bubbling pain at the back of her head spread from a small area to a bigger region. “Can you just drive? Please?” It’s like the collision absolutely affected her linguistics now. “You’re creating traffic.” 

Tzuyu pretends not to hear for a few seconds, relishing in the opportunity to take an actual closer look at the girl beside her, who’s too busy rubbing at the back of her head. 

As if compelled by her eternal yearning to be able to hold Chaeyoung again, Tzuyu reaches out to take Chaeyoung’s hand and replaces it with her own, feeling the back of her head for any bump. Chaeyoung’s surprise is embodied by the way she freezes at the touch. 

“W-What are you...doing?”

“Where does it hurt?” Tzuyu asks, dismissing the shock in Chaeyoung’s voice. She softly and _very_ gently strokes the pad of her fingers on the girl’s scalp, massaging her in a way, trying to find any swelling that demands first-aid. 

In Chaeyoung’s embarrassing defense, the closest Tzuyu has been to her wasn’t even remotely _near_ the way she is right now–if you count out all the times they exchanged a few innocent kisses here and there during summer camp–and her startle response is her best defense mechanism to threatening stimuli and situations; in this case: Chou Tzuyu and her soft, alluring touch. 

So yeah, she is totally not to be blamed for acting like a deer getting transfixed by the headlights, standing in harm’s way. Chaeyoung’s reflexes aren’t as sharp as she intended them to become, especially now that time travelling aftermaths feel like extreme jetlag from what could possibly be the longest flight in the world. 

“Chaeyoung…?”

“O-Oh! No! It’s...It’s okay now!” Chaeyoung feels the warmth of embarrassment pooling on her cheeks. She slightly pulls her head away from Tzuyu’s touch, almost hitting it on the window in the process. “You...you should drive now. The cars are…” a series of elaborate hand gestures get the message across, compensating for Chaeyoung’s humiliation and panicking. 

“Oh. Okay.” Tzuyu retracts her hand and begins driving again, a few seconds away before a cop pulls them over. 

An awkward atmosphere replaces the overflowing frustration in Chaeyoung’s part. “...Yeah...yeah...that…” she sounds like a tourist trying to get her message out but failing to do so. 

_Is self-inflicted humiliation a necessary recurrence whenever I’m faced with a pretty girl or a life-threatening situation? Why does it have to happen whenever I’m with a beautiful person???_

***

Nayeon only leaves her position on the threshold whenever she needs to go to the bathroom.

Jihyo comes by every after an hour of searching, and manages to leave a blanket around her best friend’s trembling shoulders on her last break before she goes out again, like a soldier off to brave a gruesome battle. She takes turns with her husband regarding their breaks. If the other is with Nayeon, the other should continue sifting through streets and whatever shop is open at the ass crack of dawn. 

The sun rises by 5AM, more or so five hours after what Nayeon refers to as “the time she lost her everything”, and Nayeon hates the way the universe acts so innocent and harmonious, as if everything it does is perfect. As if _it’s_ perfect. The sunlight spills into the sprawling ground, shining down on bricked roofs and asphalt roads. The birds sing their early morning songs and the sky above is painted variations of orange and a myriad of variations of orange and shades of blue, pink, purple, and red.

The city at this time of the day feels perfect and warm, and the world is ethereal. 

Nayeon _hates_ it. How can the universe act so perfect and unbothered while she's in pain and breaking apart?

Nayeon _hates_ it. She hates the universe for everything it's put her through. 

It’s around 6AM, just as the warmth of the sun turns up a notch and the birds stop singing their choruses, when Jihyo returns with a steaming cup of coffee and breakfast takeout from McDonald’s. Because Nayeon doesn’t wish to leave her place by the door, patiently waiting for her daughter to come home, Jihyo and Daniel eat their breakfast beside her on the floor. 

Seven hours into her battle with the universe, Nayeon faces two more other problems. As if her daughter walking out on her wasn’t enough, Nayeon begins to see dreamland hovering by the horizon. Each limb starts to grow heavier and gravity pulls down on her eyelids like window blinds at night. It doesn’t take a while before her resolve begins to fade and her head tips to the side, resting on the door frame. 

What was promised a short nap becomes an hour and a half, and when Nayeon wakes up with Chaeyoung’s blanket wrapped around her shoulders, it’s to Jihyo fuzzing behind her, anxiously pacing back and forth with a hanger of Nayeon’s clothes in hand and, along the process, accidentally tipping off a mother earth figurine from the stand. 

Nayeon catches Jihyo going rigid in her place awkwardly, as if caught red-handed, before proceeding to tiptoe to the living room like nothing happened, carefully dropping the hanger of clothes on the sofa. 

When Jihyo carefully and slowly turns around, it’s Nayeon’s unamused frown that greets the shit out of her. “Fucking shi—” 

“What are you doing?” Nayeon remains unfazed while Jihyo looks like her soul has just left her body. She drifts her weary eyes to the batch of clothes neatly laid out on the sofa–a white blazer and trouser set that Nayeon remembers purchasing but never really wearing (probably because it made her look old). “We can’t play dress-up now, Jihyo.” 

“We’re not playing dress-up.” Jihyo huffs, walking over to Nayeon and crouching down to meet her lost eyes. “You need to attend the disciplinary hearing for Chaeyoung at school.”

And then it hits Nayeon like a bulldozer. Chaeyoung’s English teacher, Ms. Sunmi, called to inform them beforehand about the disciplinary hearing with the school board regarding Chaeyoung’s school behavior, the one Nayeon is required to _personally_ attend. 

_Fuck. I completely forgot about that._

Nayeon feels a migraine creeping in. Just how can the universe get more _fucked_ up? “I’m not attending that”, she says with finality. 

The tables turn and it’s Jihyo who looks at her unamused now, laced with a ting of pity that Nayeon _badly_ wants to wipe out but it’s Jihyo and before she can even do that, Jihyo’s probably going to kick her first. 

“You have to, Nayeon.”

“Chaeyoung is _missing,_ Jihyo.” Nayeon feels a boiling kind of emotion inside of her, brought on by the last thread of patience she has wearing out. “I don’t know what kind of excuse they allow there, but I’m sure as _hell_ a missing child is an exemption.” 

“Daniel’s already with the cops looking around, Nayeon. And I’ll be here, waiting”, Jihyo reaches for Nayeon’s hands, crossed over her chest, and pulls to hold it with her own. “You _have_ to show up there.” 

“Jihyo, Chaeyoung is missing. What part of that do you not understand?” 

“The part where you _promised_ to _show up_.” Jihyo deadpans. 

“Uhuh…” Nayeon trails off, unconvinced. She snatches her hands away. “That wasn’t in the sentence.” 

Jihyo honestly can’t believe the way the screws in Nayeon's head turns. One moment she's faced with a _really_ sad and frustrated Nayeon, the next she's trying to argue with a child. 

Jihyo presents her first tactic–puppy eyes. "Pretty please?"

"I'm not nine, Jihyo. Magic words don't apply to me. Try harder." 

"You said you'd do it for Chaeyoung." 

“Can’t we just reschedule?” Nayeon turns to whining to get her resentment across. By this time, Jihyo is already pulling her up and dragging her to the clothes carefully prepared. “I’m _really_ not in the mood to meet a bunch of goons and talk about my missing daughter.” 

“Chaeyoung is _not_ missing, Nayeon”, Jihyo groans for the ninth time. She’s been admonishing Nayeon and her negativity for the last seven hours and yet not a single nail of her scolding has been hammered down in the woman’s head. “She won’t be that far from here. Chaeyoung barely knows the world outside of Apgujeong.” 

“Which is the _point_ , Jihyo.” Nayeon plops down on the upholstered sofa, sitting underneath one leg while the other dangles off. “My daughter doesn’t know the universe and how _fucked up_ it is. I don’t want it to ruin her too. I have to stay here and wait until she comes back because you’ve already prohibited me from joining you and Daniel!”

“They can’t reschedule the meeting now, Nayeon!” Jihyo lets out a frustrated groan. She feels like pulling out her hair from the stress of convincing Nayeon. “The owner of the building is only in town for a few days and he’s already made time to attend the meeting this afternoon. You _have_ to show up! _For Chaeyoung_!”

“I don’t want—”

But Nayeon’s words are cut off by the sound of Jihyo’s phone ringing. Jihyo doesn’t make any move to answer it when she pulls it out of the backpocket of her jeans, only frowning at the line of numbers plastered on her screen, from an unknown caller’s I.D. that jumps between them in perfect time. 

“Answer it.” Nayeon huffs, standing up from the sofa and walking past her best friend, towards the kitchen fridge to grab a much needed bottle of water. “Our conversation here is over. I won’t be attending that stupid meeting, Jihyo.” 

Jihyo doesn’t say much to Nayeon and instead, focuses on talking to whoever is on the other end of the line. She walks over to the opened door, in desperate need of breathing space away from the suffocation that is her frustration over Nayeon’s stubbornness.

The conversation doesn’t last for more than five minutes. Nayeon’s blurry agitation is wiped away by the sight of Jihyo hastily hanging the call up and rushing over to the rack beside the door, draping her coat over her shoulders in an awfully charismatic way. 

Jihyo fills her in with the most amazing information Nayeon’s ever heard in the last seven hours of absolute nothingness. “Daniel found a lead.”

“ _What?_ ” Nayeon almost drops her bottle of water. She rushes over and fixes the blanket around her shoulders. “Wait, I’m coming with you!” 

“No. You’re not.” But Jihyo stops her before she could even take a step over the threshold. She matches the bad scowl on Nayeon’s face with the finality of her tone. “You’re going to take a shower, fix yourself, put on the best makeup you’ve got, and dress up like the _bad bitch_ you are. Because you’re going to attend that _fucking_ meeting and represent your daughter just like how you promised to _show up_ for her. Because you’re her _mother_ , and she needs you even more now. Got it?” 

Jihyo’s eyes are scary and dark, brimming with authority and conviction, and she’s always had the ability to convince people for everyone’s own good, no matter the situation. It’s the reason why Jihyo’s always won every competition she’s joined. She has a way with words that even the most obstinate of people can never really resist her. This is coming from someone like Nayeon, who isn’t _just_ stubborn but ultimately an entirely new stratum of the word, the highest degree it could possibly get.

The confidence from a few minutes ago dissipates into thin air, followed by a sequence of unnerved blinking and a defeated sigh. “Fine.” 

Jihyo punches the air in victory, glorious in her pursuit. Nayeon only stares at her, dumbfounded. Her compelled agreement only registers when Jihyo disappears from her sight after a wave of goodbye and a promise of the soonest update possible, skipping down the cobblestone pathway and out of the gates. 

Just like many of their past arguments, the sequence of events is already anticipated and the outcome is almost anticlimactic by now. Jihyo proposes an absurd idea. Nayeon opposes. Jihyo is unwavering. Nayeon is adamant. Jihyo uses the Chaeyoung card, Nayeon loses her resolve. Jihyo adds her final arguments, Nayeon is at the losing end. It takes a few more arguing after that before Jihyo comes out triumphant–as _always_ –and Nayeon just finds herself stunned at best. 

_Fuck. I let her win again…_

It takes Nayeon about five more minutes of just staring at nothing before the thought of having to _adult_ again dawns on her. It takes an additional ten minutes more before she drags herself out of the kitchen and to her room with the clothes Jihyo prepared for her, like a sloth moving languidly. An hour at least is what she utilizes just for a shower, taking her time because she doesn’t really plan on arriving early, and another hour of just staring at the full length mirror behind her door, at the clothes that fit her perfectly, like she’s preparing for Paris Fashion week’s runway and not a meeting with her daughter’s principal and teachers. 

It’s amazing how a few dabs of concealer and a stroke of red lipstick immediately hide away the despair and anguish in her face. Nayeon looks at herself in the mirror and no longer sees the woman earlier, painfully waiting by the door for her daughter to come back home. She hides that away to face the world again, as someone with enough strength to conceal the weight on her chest with a small, faint smile. 

The only strength she’s getting now is from the thought of Chaeyoung, coming back to her and never leaving _ever_ again. Nayeon has let the universe dictate everything for her, patiently standing aside to let the tides ride her away. This time, she realizes, Jihyo is right. _She always is._

It’s time to stop blaming everything on the universe. In the first place, it was only ever Nayeon’s fault. For trusting her everything to an entity she can’t even see. In the first place, it should have only been up to her. It is her life, after all.

So this once, Nayeon believes in the woman in front of her. Hot red lipstick and hair in loose waves. For once, she takes the courage and the risk, and she won’t be letting the universe win against her this time. 

***

Somewhere in between Chaeyoung’s mind trying to make sense of the world outside the car windows and utilizing the silence by formulating plans on how to get in contact with her aunts and, most especially, Jeongyeon and Dahyun, Tzuyu decides to make use of the silence by striking a conversation with her, asking just _exactly_ how did Chaeyoung fall asleep in front of the diner amidst the unbearable chilly night.

Chaeyoung, absolutely taken away by the clouds of her deep-thinking and plan-making, answers back unknowingly, “I’m looking for my mom’s long-lost great love.”

And the astonishment on Tzuyu’s face is remarkably amusing, and Chaeyoung would have _loved_ to sneak a picture of it and frame it on a wall, if only she wasn’t busy internally cursing herself on the slip-up. 

“I...I mean…uh...” Chaeyoung just wants the world to swallow her alive. Since when was her house _this_ far from the diner?? 

She wants to take it back, conjure another excuse without looking high just like how Tzuyu probably sees her now, but then the gorgeous girl flashes a quick smile at Chaeyoung’s direction–a dip in her cheeks gloriously coming to view, Chaeyoung thinks her heart just took a fall–and says with the sweetest, most genuinely understanding tone in the world,

“I’d love to help you with that. If you ever need one.” 

And Chaeyoung thinks _yes._ Her heart indeed just took a fall. 

The natural response to the wonderful offer would be a grateful pass, because Chaeyoung is not yet ready to dive into what it is between her and Tzuyu–if there even is still one–and agreeing to her help would warrant more time spent together, but the desperation from the time travelling predicament has taken a toll at her _everything_ –mind, body, and soul–like the aftermath of an actual drug-induced euphoria, and passing on this opportunity would only be an idiot’s doing because Chou Tzuyu is all the help Chaeyoung would need. Because Tzuyu studies in Apgujeong too and can easily navigate through hallway gossip about their school’s past _icons_.

So yes, Chaeyoung won’t pass on this now. Not when it’s Tzuyu, and she’s looking at Chaeyoung so softly and expectantly, and Chaeyoung never really had a firm resolve against the people living rent free in her heart. 

“Actually, can I take you up on that offer now?” 

Tzuyu’s eyes gleam brighter than a thousand flashes of cameras. “Sure! What do I need to do?” 

Across the street, the last traffic light before the turn to Chaeyoung’s street flickers green, and Chaeyoung finishes the thorough game plan in her mind, all detailed and mapped out like a detective’s link chart on a bulletin board. If everything is as easy as it looks like in her head, then Chou Tzuyu is all the help Chaeyoung needs to pull this entire cupid’s game off. 

“Have you ever heard of someone named Yoo Jeongyeon?”

***

It's not the first time Nayeon sees herself standing at the end of a long school corridor lined with metal lockers and filled with bustling students going about their days like colonies of ants in a fiasco. She went to high school too, and she was even considered the Moses of high school hallways, parting them like the red sea whenever she walked along with her squad. Unfortunately, times have drastically changed and Nayeon no longer reigns over the entire social body of school. Now, hallways no longer part for her, and some kids even have the audacity to shove her aside when she tries to brave through the throng of students down the corridor.

Suddenly, the right turn to the conference room at the end of the hall feels like a finish line and manhandling her way to it is the race. Of course, Nayeon doesn't _actually_ bulldoze through the throng of students–being sued for child abuse and getting herself imprisoned is the _last_ thing she wants to deal with right now–she just painfully lets the profanities die in her lips when kids bump into her rather too much rough to be considered unintentional. 

Nayeon simply summons all the patience in the world and sharply apologizes on _their_ behalf for hitting _her_ . _Kids these days..._ Other than the manhandling, the only acknowledgement she gets from the rowdy students are the impish stares from the older high school kids who look to be just the same age as Chaeyoung. They're mostly boys so Nayeon really doesn't give much of a fuck. 

It takes her longer than necessary to finally reach the end of the hall, and by the time Nayeon faces the frosted glass door to the conference room where she will be meeting with Chaeyoung’s school principal and other teachers, she sees her reflection on the translucent surface first and recoils in absolute horror at herself. 

“What the hell…” Nayeon can’t help but curse under her breath, wondering how the _fuck_ did she end up looking like she’s just gone through hell and not a high school hallway. Strands of her hair are tangled from all the bodies bumping into her down the bustling corridor and there’s even a horizontal red marker stroke on her _white_ blazer’s forearm sleeve, drawn _unintentionally_ as if its artist passed by with an uncapped red _fucking_ marker held out for the world. 

_I hate kids._ _I’ll definitely never have another one. Chaeyoung is enough._

Nayeon spends an entire minute of fixing herself up again–disentangling hair stands and pressing down on the creases of her blazer and trousers–before grabbing a hold of the steel handle and slowly pushing the door open, peeking her head through the crack to check if she’s in the right room. 

The conference room definitely does not fall behind the expectations Nayeon had in mind, which wasn’t much to be honest. The walls are a shade of smokey white, decorated by framed motivational quotes from Pinterest. A single fluorescent light illuminates the entire space and below it, smacked right in the center of the room, is a wooden rectangular long table surrounded by office chairs. A blackboard takes up the entire wall in front of the meeting table, and on it are the words **_WELCOME PARENTS_** written in pretentious cursive penmanship. 

Nayeon’s first thought is: _how the hell did Jihyo survive these?_ And her second thought is–supposed to be another comment on how Jihyo managed to endure adulthood, but then her focus is abruptly drawn towards the people in the room, particularly to the tall, beautiful lady in a green button-up that flashes her a lopsided smirk and a wave of her hand, “Recess is ending in five minutes, Missy. Go back to your classroom.” 

“Oh?” _Wow._ Nayeon opens the door wider and steps inside. “I was actually looking for the meeting about my daughter, Son Chaeyoung? I’m Nayeon, her mother.” 

_Oh to be able to capture the stunned faces on these people... I should’ve brought my camera._

It’s been years since Nayeon last admitted to being a mother to someone who isn’t a part of the small circle of friends she keeps around, but the astonished reactions will never get tiring to witness. Back then it used to be annoying because the stunned reaction often came with a derogatory comment on how she must’ve “played around” as a teenager, but now it’s just pure amusement because the world’s more open-minded and Nayeon’s already nearing forty. The surprise nowadays is reluctantly followed by whispered comments and held-back reactions that all ask pretty much the same question: _how do you look so young?!_

The faces of the people in the conference room are definitely similar. 

“O-Oh!” The woman in green jumps up to a stand, immediately walking over with a wider smile. “I apologize. I thought you were a lost student…” the chuckle that escapes her lips is stiff. She extends her hands over to Nayeon. “I’m Lee Sunmi. Chaeyoung’s English teacher. I was the one who left a voice message yesterday.” 

Nayeon remembers with a nod, reflecting the same polite smile on her face. She doesn’t know what else to say anymore because this is all new territory to her and growing up not only warranted the decline of her youthful appearance but also the fall of her old unreserved and gregarious personality.

Nowadays, meeting new people feels more exhausting. Nayeon blames it on her age. Nearing her forties suddenly feels like she’s just a step away from her deathbed.

Thankfully, Ms. Sunmi proves to be an excellent English teacher because she easily interprets the wariness on Nayeon’s face and doesn’t wait for any more response. She draws Nayeon to one of the office chairs around the long table, and Nayeon takes a seat on the chair facing a middle-aged man in a black business suit who soon introduces himself as the school principal, Mr. Yang. Around him, three other older women sit prim and proper, faces laced with forced smiles and fault-finding eyes boring holes at every inch of Nayeon’s body. They introduce themselves individually, as PTA members of the school discipline board. A second after they mention their names, Nayeon forgets them and just labels their faces away as _people I should avoid_ _at all cost_.

Ms. Sunmi takes the chair beside Mr. Yang, plopping down with a small huff. “By the way, it’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Son—”

“Oh, _Miss._ Miss Im. Im Nayeon.” Nayeon doesn’t know why she felt the strong need to correct the woman but she does, and she’s not regretting any of it even with the scandalized faces of the other people in the room. 

Ms. Sunmi corrects herself with a patient smile. “Oh, apologies, _Miss Im._ It’s our pleasure to finally meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine.” _Not really._

“The meeting will begin in a short while. We’re just waiting for the building’s owner to arrive and join us.” Mr. Yang joins in, voice fearsome in all its resonant and stern glory. He bothers himself with sparing Nayeon a smile, but that only makes him look scarier, like the grim monster in a child’s nightmares, grinning with fangs and blood trickling down the side of his mouth. _Principal Park is definitely better…_

Because they’re all basically strangers–well, Nayeon is to them–and they’re all waiting for the late comer of the meeting, naturally, someone finds it their task to alleviate the awkward silence in the room by striking a conversation of very little depth. Nayeon isn’t surprised anymore when it’s one of the PTA moms. 

“So, Ms. Im...what do you do for a living?” It comes from the PTA mom sitting in the middle, looking like the ringleader, clad in a neutral-toned ruffled blouse, looking every bit the antagonistic mother-in-law role in the afternoon dramas Nayeon watches and gets criticized for by her own daughter.

See, _this_ is the exact reason why Nayeon never liked attending Chaeyoung’s school’s PTA meetings. It’s more of a chance to sit down and judge her, the young single mom of the troubled child, and less of an actual meeting regarding any certain issue. 

“I work in public relations.” Nayeon simply answers with a polite smile, because it’s ambiguous yet precise at the same time. 

“As in a nine-to-five job?” _PTA Mom #1_ , Nayeon fondly names her, asks furthermore, futilely attempting to disguise the distaste in her tone with surprise. 

Nayeon only responds with a wordless and _polite_ nod, taming down the urge to snort at millisecond twitch of the eyebrows of the two other older women beside PTA Mom #1, probably already looking down on Nayeon and her non-top 1% lifestyle. 

_A single mom_ and _a white collar worker?!_

“And the woman we often meet? The one who attends on behalf of Chaeyoung? She is…?”

“Park Jihyo, my friend. She’s Chaeyoung’s aunt.” 

“Ah…” 

The shallow conversation begins to fade away into the awkward atmosphere of the room, thinning to nothingness when PTA Mom #1 pushes her chair back and is just about to excuse herself for the powder room, until a knock resonates from the frosted glass door behind Nayeon, the one she had entered through, and the awkward atmosphere is replaced by something lighter and more airy, and Nayeon keeps a mental note to thank her glorious savior for rescuing her from perhaps another round of judgemental interrogation. 

PTA Mom #1 doesn’t go to the lavatory anymore and instead, remains standing with the same programmed _welcoming_ smile on her face, void of any actual warmth and sincerity, while Ms. Sunmi, Mr. Yang, and the two other PTA moms join her in standing up as well.

Nayeon’s back faces their late comer guest, apparently the owner of the building Chaeyoung spray-painted on without any consent, and she utilizes this advantage by fixing herself presentable again. 

Ms. Sunmi greets the last member of the meeting just like how she did with Nayeon, a simple hello and a handshake. Mr. Yang looks more welcoming than how he was when Nayeon entered–although Nayeon doesn’t mind. He looks scarier now than earlier–and PTA Mom #1, probably because she knows _all_ the gossip, greets and then makes a comment about how exhausting the flight must have been. 

_Ah...he must be a businessman or something—_

“It was just a short flight. No worries.” 

_Wait._

Nayeon’s hands freeze on her lap. Her entire _body_ feels like it just froze and her mind is short-circuiting. 

_That voice._

The last time Nayeon heard the familiar voice, it was soft and restrained in a long-distance call with white noises in the background and very bad signal. They talked about how it felt like graduating and what the future would hold for them. Nayeon remembers the conversation tugging at her heartstrings. While her future seemed to be written in a foggy haze–with the baby she was cradling in her arms–the future for the voice at the other end of the line was filled with opportunities and was wonderfully _bright_ –just like the girl herself. 

“Miss Im?” Ms. Sunmi calls for Nayeon, and it takes about more than a second’s worth of mustering up the courage inside of her for Nayeon to respond, turning on her heels and facing the body to the _familiar_ voice. 

Even through the liquified pinpricks of pent-up memories and emotions welling around her eyes, Nayeon could very well see how time had done Kim Dahyun nothing but good. 

It takes quite some time for Nayeon to take everything in. It’s been more than a decade since they last saw each other in physical form, and all evidences of Kim Dahyun in her life had been reduced to yearly postcards and letters until even those she had stopped receiving. All that was left to Nayeon was a single photograph with the girl, one that contained only the two of them, very rarely left with each other; a lone piece of fading paper that had somehow managed to encapsulate an all-too-late friendship, a _big_ could-have-been if only Nayeon had not been such a brat as a high school kid. 

Standing before her now isn’t the same old sunshine-haired girl, the definitive trait everybody else somehow managed to link her with. In place of her bright gold hair is a darker shade of brown, almost black, cut short and styled in loose waves reaching down to her shoulders. Her colorful wardrobe seems to have also matured. The girl who used to put together the quirkiest set of clothes–from _denim on denim_ to the most colorful JCPenney sweater over a patterned skirt–is now simply clad in a white sheer blouse tucked inside high-waist denim jeans. Dahyun used to hate wearing anything with heels underneath and only preferred insoles but now she’s wearing high stilettos.

Somehow, Nayeon finds the person in front of her new and familiar at the same time. Everything and nothing at all had changed in Dahyun. And although Nayeon is faced with an older, more mature version of the Kim Dahyun she used to poke fun at and play along with, Nayeon can’t find it in her to feel unfamiliar. Underneath everything _different,_ Dahyun still radiates the same old warmth as she did when they used to be young. Nayeon still feels at home with her despite the _years_ in between them.

_This is still Dahyun. Still our Dahyun._

“I reckon you two have met before?” Again, Ms. Sunmi must really be a _great_ English teacher for her to be able to recognize meta-communication so easily. _Meaningful eye-contact and hitched breaths_. 

Nayeon’s stupor is suspended by the glimpse of a familiar smile–full upper teeth peeking through luscious lips painted a light shade of red–it almost knocks the wind out of her system. 

“We have.” Dahyun answers on behalf of Nayeon’s enchantment, voice sultrier and more resonant than when they were younger and laughing around. “We’re…”

Nayeon treats the trail of thought as a fill-in-the-blanks exam. _Colleagues? Acquaintances? Old schoolmates? Once members of the same group until time and life had caused a deliberate damage to their once bubbly world of happiness?_

“We’re close friends.” 

The pent-up balloon of emotions burst inside of Nayeon, turning itself liquid in the form of warm tears threatening to stream down her cheeks. In an attempt to restrain herself from crying then and there, her eyes look up, heavenward. Her thanks melt into a long, drawn-out sigh of relief. 

_We’re friends._

Dahyun directs a small smile to all the other people in the room with them, acknowledging her presence with a nod of their heads and, at the same time, a faintly held-back confused smile. 

“If that’s the case, I don’t think this meeting is of any relevance then.” Ms. Sunmi says in jest, leading Dahyun to one of the office chairs vacant in Nayeon’s side. Everybody else returns to their seats, while Nayeon sinks into hers, feeling a sense of peace when Dahyun chooses to sit right next to her. 

“Oh, I doubt that”, snorts one of the PTA moms across Nayeon and Dahyun. She pulls out a folder from underneath the table–probably from one of her luxury leather portfolio bags–and bobs her head at Dahyun’s direction, “I trust that Miss Kim here won’t let her personal relationships cloud the better of her judgement, especially considering that this hearing is not only to decide on the actions of the building owner but also, to decide on the _much needed_ punitive action for our student, Son Chaeyoung.” 

At the mention of her daughter’s name, Nayeon feels like an ice cold bucket of water had been dropped on top of her head. 

“ _Punitive action_?” She repeats with a firmness in her tone. 

“Yes, Miss Im. A disciplinary sanction for your daughter’s misbehavior and repetitive decision to violate school behavioral conduct.”

Nayeon is just about ready to throw hands at PTA Mom #2 if it weren’t for Ms. Sunmi’s calm intervening, guaranteeing Nayeon _no,_ they will not be deliberating any school penalty unless Ms. Kim Dahyun decides on one, because it _is_ her building that was used as a medium of insurrection. 

Nayeon finds herself glancing back at the younger _woman_ beside her, in disbelief at how the universe had played them and turned the tables around. For the first time in _years,_ they reunite and see each other again, however, it’s never really an _emotional_ reunion without the _troublesome_ situation they have to face first. 

Mr. Yang clears his throat to stir the attention of the room. “Now that we’re complete, let’s begin the meeting now, shall we?” 

Nayeon tries to stifle back the impatient groan attempting to escape her lips. The only good thing in this meeting is the fact that she’s sitting beside the physical form of Kim Dahyun now. The bad thing is that she has to wait until the meeting is over and done with before she can find time to talk to her sunshine girl.

***

(At the back of her mind, Nayeon laughs at the universe’s fucked up sense of humor. 

In order to be with someone she had long prayed to meet again, she had to lose her daughter first.

 _Fuck the universe._ )

***

Chaeyoung makes a mental note to thank the universe. 

If whoever controlled the gears of coincidence and destiny appeared right in front of her now, in flesh and human form, Chaeyoung would have gladly launched herself at this person and thank them for creating such a wonderfully _small_ world.

No, Tzuyu isn’t personally aware of anyone who goes by the name Yoo Jeongyeon, nor has she ever heard of _hallway gossip_ pertaining to the person despite Chaeyoung’s tenacious, “She’s only _the greatest_ soccer player your school ever had?! The youngest team captain and the best?? How can you not know her??!”

But Tzuyu _does_ know someone who is familiar with a Yoo Jeongyeon, and she has heard the name being mentioned more than once in the recent days, not in school, however. 

“So take me there”, Chaeyoung bids a little too demandingly. “I mean, please?” 

It doesn’t take much for Tzuyu to cave in. There are a _thousand_ of reasons why it’s hard to resist Chaeyoung and she puts it all under the summative category of “ _because I owe it to her”_ , and under that catalog are all the other justifications neatly arranged in a systematic order. There are those like “ _because she’s cute”,_ “ _because she makes me feel happy things”_ , and then there are those that Tzuyu would rather not cross again. Reasons she wants to apologize for but will have to wait for when the time is right. 

For now she tends to Chaeyoung’s request, and instead of taking the turn to Chaeyoung’s street by the intersection, she makes a U-turn and drives down to a different side of the town, the one nearer to her school and not the side where Chaeyoung lives– _far away_ from it, to be honest–to the place everybody else refers to as the district often referred to as where “old money” lives. 

Meeting the parents had always been a sacred chapter in a relationship, especially for someone as secretly romantic as Chou Tzuyu. It was never in her intentions to have Chaeyoung meet her parents under such... _unusual_ ...circumstances. When the thought would pop up, Tzuyu would get giddy and flustered because her moms have _always_ been embarrassingly adorable and the bane of their existence was the possibility that their only daughter was going to miss out on her own wonderful love story with the outward perspective she had on love; they _always_ insisted Tzuyu herself to open up on that side of her life. 

Little did they know, Tzuyu already had _opened_ herself up–bare and undone–to the one girl she met in a summer art camp, the one girl who’s made the forced situation unforgettable, the one girl who still remains steadfastly secured in her heart. 

In another time, Tzuyu would take Chaeyoung back to her place and remeet her parents again, probably when they’re not only coming over to ask about a Yoo Jeongyeon. 

***

Chaeyoung only realizes it now. 

Deux is like a barricade she has never passed through, an unofficial boundary marker she never dared explore. The part of the town on the other side of it is a new territory to her, all of her friends’ houses are scattered somewhere in _her_ side of the town, the half that’s littered with houses along the range of contemporary mansions in their own top 1% suburbs, to neglected brick bungalows slipping in between, like that one bad tooth sticking out and ruining an almost perfect smile. There was really no need for Chaeyoung to venture out into the unknown back then. 

Now, however...it’s an entirely different story. 

It turns out, the other half of the town, the _unknown_ other side, is just how Chaeyoung expected it to be. In hindsight, the gold stainless steel welcoming sign by the village gate should have given it away. If the top 1% reside somewhere near Chaeyoung’s neighborhood, that could only mean those who live in this portion are remarkably on their own level. The 1 percent, it turns out, have their own 1 percent. 

Tzuyu being one of them isn’t any surprise anymore. When they first met at the summer art camp, during the camp introductions, she had introduced herself as a student of Apgujeong Private. That alone was a testament to the kind of lifestyle she lived. The Rimowa suitcase she was dragging behind her only confirmed it for Chaeyoung even more. 

What’s surprising is what happens when they do arrive in their location which is, apparently, Tzuyu’s house herself. 

“My parents went to the same school too and they probably studied around the same time as Yoo Jeongyeon.” Tzuyu parks the car right beside a towering wall of grey sand lime bricks. “I’m not sure if they’re around but we can ask them if they are.” 

She steps out of the vehicle in such photoshoot material, breeze blowing her ponytailed hair back perfectly, and Chaeyoung follows shortly after her, like a lost pup probably because she is one right now. 

There is a staircase a few steps ahead, attached to the massive–and quite dull–wall. Tzuyu waits for Chaeyoung and helps her walk up. There is no need to, frankly, but Chaeyoung always had bad impulse control and when she got a taste of what it felt like to be near Tzuyu again–let alone be _touched_ by her warmth and held by her soft hands–it didn’t take much for Chaeyoung’s body to crave it even more. 

At the end of the climb is a Tuscan wooden gate door and an intercom system mounted on the brick wall by the side. Tzuyu unlatches her arm around Chaeyoung’s waist to press the numeric lock on the system and steps back a little when a loud buzz resonates and the gate is automatically unlocked, pushed open slightly.

Tzuyu’s hand finds itself wrapped around Chaeyoung’s waist again like clockwork as they make their way inside. 

Chaeyoung is greeted by _another_ set of stairs–a muffled groan escapes her lips–albeit this time, it’s enclosed by stone walls adorned with luscious green creeper plants formed like paint dripping down. 

At the end of the stone staircase, Chaeyoung expects a gargantuan modern _mansion_ to greet her like all the other stone block-looking houses they passed by on their way. It’s not that Chaeyoung considers herself against modern architecture. It’s just that she’s against those who are slaves to the straight line. Most of the houses in the top 0.01% neighborhood are boxes of varying sizes, typically decorated with wooden panels and colored in shades of brown, black, or white. It’s still amazing nonetheless, but Chaeyoung is a liberated soul overflowing with colors and curiosity, and part of who she is, is her nature of longing for _more_ , for something out of the box. 

So when they do reach the top of the narrow stone staircase, Chaeyoung doesn’t expect much, but what she is greeted with ultimately knocks her breath away. Tzuyu is really _something…_

The _mansion_ looks like a downscaled version of the Chatsworth House Chaeyoung used to sketch for her art classes. There’s fresh-cut and luscious green grass sprawling in the spacious front yard, surrounded by a well-manicured and landscaped hedge of bushes and other flowering plants. 

At the sight of the fully-bloom flowers, Chaeyoung immediately feels an itch on her throat. _Oh no._

Before she can even register the impending allergic attack, she feels Tzuyu moving and pulling something out from her pocket.

“You might need this.” She reaches her free hand out to Chaeyoung, a neatly-folded handkerchief resting on her palm. “My moms _love_ flowers and we have them all around the house. You might get an allergic attack if you don’t cover your nose.” 

Frankly, Chaeyoung doesn’t know what to do with this information. Doesn’t even know if her mind is registering it properly. _She still remembers?_

Okay, so a year isn’t _that_ long–compared to the _decade_ Nayeon never came around to seeing her aunts again–but if it’s a year to the girl who you refused to reply to again and only sneak glance at whenever you two meet at the local diner, then a _year_ is all Tzuyu would need to forget about all the shallow memories she and Chaeyoung made together in that summer art camp. It’s enough and too much at the same time. 

_So why does she still remember?_

The question gets pushed at the back of Chaeyoung’s head. It should be the least of her concerns for now. What matters more is getting in contact with _anyone_ who knows her Jeongyeon unnie‐or _aunt_ Jeongyeon, whatever. 

“Uh...thank you.” Chaeyoung takes the handkerchief and covers her nose and mouth at the next blow of the breeze. The scent of sweet vanilla linger in her nostrils, calming and intoxicating all at the same time. 

They make their way down a lengthy cobblestone walkway leading to the side of the house where two white and tall French doors stand, decorated with climbing vines and more creeper plants around its frame. 

By the sprawling greenery that is the front yard, Chaeyoung spots foldable wooden tables and chairs set up, scattered around. Before she can even _think_ of asking, Tzuyu already entertains her thoughts as they reach the doors. 

“My parents are holding a small gathering with their old friends. They’ve been running back and forth here and my grandfather’s place to get their things, that’s why I’m not so sure if they’re home right now for us to ask.”

“Ah…” Chaeyoung trails off, unaware of what else to say. 

Tzuyu only shoots her a small smile before turning to the intercom system beside the door, pressing in _another_ code. For a house that looks very laid back and chill, Tzuyu’s parents _sure_ are very guarded people. 

The door, unlike the gate, doesn’t make any thunderous buzzing sound. It unlocks quietly and Chaeyoung is met with a very spacious and homey living room. True to Tzuyu’s words, her parents _are_ lovers of nature for there is a potted plant in almost every corner of the house, accentuating the neutral color palette of the interior. 

If Tzuyu would sit on the white upholstered ottoman in front of the fireplace, with her two moms standing beside her–probably add in a Golden Retriever or any adorable pup too–they would look like _that one_ picture-perfect family plastered on the covers of every high-end parenting magazine.

“Mom?” Tzuyu calls out, voice echoing around the house. Chaeyoung takes a seat on one of the comfortable white sofas, resting her hand down on her lap. The potted plants are all green ones and no sign of pollen grains. She’s good– _for now._

Tzuyu excuses herself to look for either one of her parents, disappearing into the hallway that probably leads to the other rooms of the house. Chaeyoung is left in her own silent company. She cranes her neck to look around the place from her seat, noticing more of the house’s personality. 

Unlike what Chaeyoung remembers of her house, Tzuyu’s parents must really love and adore her to have her face take up most–if not _all_ –expensive-looking picture frames neatly aligned in a row on the fireplace ledge. Frame sizes range from about as big as a Macbook (a picture of a younger Tzuyu holding a puppy) to something as small as the screen of an iPhone (the _only_ picture of Tzuyu together with, Chaeyoung assumes, both of her moms). 

Now, Chaeyoung has never really been gifted in the sight department–after effectively going against her aunt Jihyo’s words as a kid and staying up until the crack of dawn reading books in dark environments and sticking her nose on her phone more than half of the day–it’s never really a question that, in order to get closer look at the enigma that is Chou Tzuyu’s parents, Chaeyoung has to stand up and walk over to the fireplace ledge and see for herself. 

Before she can even take a step towards it, however, another voice resonates–subdued and distant–from the hallway where Tzuyu had just disappeared from, followed by the padding of feet across the house’s marble floor. 

Chaeyoung halts in her movements and swiftly returns to her seat, acting as if nothing happened. 

Tzuyu reappears with a glass of water in hand, putting it down gently on the coffee table in front of Chaeyoung. “We’re in luck.” She smiles and it does _wonders_ in Chaeyoung’s heart. “My other mom is snoozing upstairs and she’s just freshening up. She’ll be down here in a minute.” 

In a familiarly odd and fascinating way, the prospect of meeting Tzuyu’s mom–at least, _one_ of them–does something more to the erratic beating heart inside of Chaeyoung. Partially it’s because she is going to face Tzuyu’s mom sooner than she thought, unceremoniously and _definitely_ unprepared (the situation always seemed to be fantasized under a different context–say, meeting the parents because they’re in a _relationship_ and not because Chaeyoung is desperate to play cupid for her mother and her mother’s long lost _great_ love), but the bigger explanation for the butterflies in Chaeyoung’s stomach comes from something greater than what her mind is capable of defining. 

As they wait in silence for Tzuyu’s mom, Chaeyoung looks back on the sequence of events following her return. What _perfect_ odds were in place that, upon her exact return, the first person who sees her is _Chou Tzuyu_ herself? Apart from being the _perfect_ indication that Chaeyoung is, indeed, back in 2018, Chou Tzuyu is also, in a very strange and fortunate manner, the only person Chaeyoung is close enough to know who studies at the very same school she had just travelled back from. She is the _only_ person, aside from Nayeon and her aunt Jihyo themselves, who can know a thing or two about Jeongyeon and Dahyun, and probably all of Chaeyoung’s other missing aunts. When _that_ didn’t happen, the universe presents Chaeyoung another door in the form of Tzuyu’s moms, who are both from the same school and have _probably_ lived around the same time as Chaeyoung’s mom and aunts. 

Everything that has taken place so far has happened in such _perfect_ timing, how lucky can Chaeyoung get that the universe itself aligns all odds, all stars, and all the right chances just for her to achieve that one happy ending that set itself _impossible_ from the very start? 

Chaeyoung believes it’s not _her_ luck that the cosmos are suddenly aligned and all the odds seem to be in her favor. It’s the universe’s way of making up for all the tears shed, the laughters exchanged, and the memories cherished that ceased to exist in the times of before and after Yoo Jeongyeon. It is what is owed to the girl who loved and never stopped loving, by the universe who only hurt her in return. It is what is granted to the woman who still waits and continues to love, even if all the ones she’s ever loved have only left her.

It’s not Chaeyoung’s luck that everything suddenly feels providential. If what the old lady said is true–and Chaeyoung is _sure_ it is–then that would mean everything that has happened so far happened because the universe, for once, isn’t as fucked up as how her mother thinks it to be. For those who've suffered enough, it will grant heaven. 

Chaeyoung will make sure this is not going to be a tragic swan song. 

“Chaeyoung?” Tzuyu speaks up, looking with concern at the absentminded girl in front of her. When Chaeyoung slashes through her line of musing, Tzuyu’s already standing up to greet the body to the padded footsteps on the marble floors. 

She doesn’t think much, not that she can anymore, when the woman who appears is the _last_ person she expected to see again _so soon._

“Sweetie, I don’t think I can—” 

_That voice._ Nothing will ever come close to its saccharine sound, light and tender just like its owner. 

Chaeyoung can feel her legs growing numb. Any attempt at standing up to pay her respect has dissipated into the air, replaced by a certain familiar yearning that is all-consuming and unyielding. 

She beats her into saying it. “Chaeyoungie?” 

And the sound of her name in a deeper, more mature voice makes Chaeyoung feel _everything_ all at once. 

What follows is a surge of warm, poignant emotions pushing up a well of tears in Chaeyoung’s eyes, she can’t see unless they spill out into a drawn-out breath of relief. So they do. 

“Aunt Sana?”

***

The meeting ends an hour after it began, on a lighter note when Nayeon convinces scary-looking Mr. Yang with her prodigious persuasion skills _not to_ expel her daughter and instead, let Chaeyoung do community service or something like that. 

Nayeon can’t take all the credit too, not when Ms. Sunmi helped a lot in convincing the PTA moms to give in half-heartedly to the settlement, and _especially_ not when Dahyun explains the real reason behind the decision to personally show up at the meeting. 

She explains it furthermore once everybody else is gone, tending to the three PTA moms walking their way out of the conference room, leaving Nayeon standing by herself with Dahyun at the other end of the room, on a high-spirited call with _someone._

In the time Nayeon is left alone in her thoughts, she tries to sift through each one to come up with something– _anything_ –to say that can possibly compensate for the raw and all-encompassing emotion she’s feeling inside. A longing, an intense one, for _something._ And through the possible questions her mind ends up thinking of– _How have you been? Are you staying for long? Do you want to have lunch? Are you still traveling around?_ –the one that does spill out into words, just as Dahyun ends her call and faces Nayeon with a smile again, escapes her lips in a trembling voice and pushes her arms open. 

“Hey kid, can I get a hug?” 

It’s funny. They’re late into their thirties now, adult women trudging the inescapable adult life. But when Dahyun huffs out a laugh and smiles that broad, willing one, walks over with a playful drag of her feet because _unnie, we’re old now why are you still calling me a kid_ , she melts into Nayeon’s arms like they’re teenagers again, with no care in the world and what’s to come, because all that matters is them and then, and if they’re all together nothing else can go wrong. 

When Dahyun sinks into Nayeon’s hug and wraps her arms around the older woman’s waist, they’re travelled back in front of the dorm again, on that one spring night everybody had to say goodbye so soon, to the kid that held their group together for so long, to their _sunshine_ _girl_ who had to go home. 

The baby powder scent of Dahyun’s old favorite cologne is replaced by a scent stronger and mature, musk and apple notes lingering in the air. 

The next question that escapes Nayeon’s lips isn’t any of the four she came up with beforehand. It’s not even a question to begin with. 

Nayeon rests her head on top of Dahyun’s tousled dark brown hair. “I missed you.” 

And she can feel the movement against the fabric of her blazer, the smile that never fades away from the younger girl. “I missed you too, unnie. How have you been?” 

Dahyun attempts to pull back from the hug but Nayeon’s memorized her smile now, she needs the younger girl’s hug more. Something about making sure this is all real and not just a play on her mind.

“I’ve been better.” 

They stay rooted in place for a few more seconds until Nayeon lets go, only because someone knocks on the glass door and a frosted figure of a woman appears, clad in a long trench coat, jeans, and carrying an expensive-looking bag with her. 

It doesn’t take much for Nayeon to register who it is. The slender and perfect build gives it away almost immediately. The one difference now is the short hair, cut to a bob. Everything else is just the same. _Perfect._

“Is that…?”

But the name doesn’t escape Nayeon’s lips just like how it did with Dahyun’s, not when the door is pushed open and the answer lies quietly on the way Dahyun whispers with a soft smile, standing behind as she holds the door for the woman. 

“It is.” 

Everything else is just the same. _Perfect._ Because Mina Myoui has never been short of it. 

***

When her husband talked about having a _lead_ to her goddaughter’s whereabouts, Jihyo’s initial thought was, at the very least, a useful clue–maybe a passing student or a CCTV footage, whatever–what she did not anticipate, however, is her husband’s definition of a _lead_. 

“What do you mean a _vanishing_ old lady?” Jihyo is, by all means, _furious._ While Daniel had been in and out dreamland on Nayeon’s sofa, she was sifting through streets and asking random pedestrians about Chaeyoung. She feels powerless when the exhaustion seeps through her bones like a wet rag.

The sheepish smile on Daniel’s face dims underneath the fiery glare of his wife. “I...uh...she was just here! She told me...uh…” his eyes move downwards to Jihyo’s foot-tapping on the floor, a telltale sign of his impending doom. “Uh...she said to just...wait…” 

“For what?!” 

Thankfully it’s already waking hours and they’re standing in the middle of an empty parking lot in front of Deux. No one can file a noise complaint against Jihyo’s rising tone. No one can also speak witness should Jihyo decide to strangle her husband then and there. 

“I don’t know!” Daniel hangs his head down, afraid to meet Jihyo’s gaze. “I just...she was just here! She said to wait until Chaeyoung comes back.” 

There’s a quake in his voice, an indication of the effect that comes along falling in love and marrying such a smart, powerful woman. 

“I...I’m sorry.” Underneath everyone’s perfect image of him and their marriage–high school schoolmates-turned-college sweethearts, oh what a story–it was _always_ Jihyo who was the perfect one, even for Daniel. “I wasn’t lying or anything. I...I really _did_ have a lead...somewhere...but she just... _vanished._ ”

He really did. He isn’t lying. Daniel had been asking around the corner and when he passed by the old diner, an old lady approached him and told him to _wait._ Just that. When he ran over to his car to get his phone and show a picture of Chaeyoung, just to make sure the Chaeyoung he’s talking about is the same as the one the old lady remembers, she was nowhere to be found anymore. Like she just vanished into thin air. 

It was too late to take his call to Jihyo back. By the time the old lady disappeared, Jihyo’s Cadillac was already approaching sight. 

Now, they’re here. 

“You know what?” Jihyo pinches the bridge of her nose, letting out a long, deep breath. “Let’s just move along. We can’t waste anymore time—”

“Excuse me?” 

Jihyo snaps towards the sudden voice, sweet and gentle, just like that of its owner whose presence initially has Daniel running behind his wife 

“That’s her…” he whispers cautiously to Jihyo’s ear. “The Vanishing Old Lady.” 

Jihyo doesn’t know how to feel about her husband, a man in his mid-thirties with the height of 5’11, hiding behind her, a woman of the same age but eight inches shorter, cowering in front of the so-called _vanishing old lady_ who actually looks really sweet–like that loving grandmother who bakes cookies and knits for her grandchildren–if only the skepticism didn’t beat it away in Jihyo’s mind. 

Still, Jihyo pushes that wary gut feeling inside of her away. “Ahjumma, my husband said you saw the kid we’re looking for?” She pulls out her phone from her pocket and unlocks it, showcasing her home screen which is a picture of Chaeyoung. “This is her.” 

The old lady, however, didn't even bat an eyelash at the photograph. Instead, she looks at Jihyo with narrowed eyes, squinting, and a step taken closer, as if she’s trying to capture a certain detail on Jihyo’s face. 

Jihyo knows martial arts and knows, as well, not to underestimate old people when it comes to it. Even those of the frailest bones have strength in them. Jihyo would know. She’s been with Nayeon nearly her entire life. 

Instead of jolting back at the intrusion into her personal space, Jihyo stays rooted on her feet and remains on her ground. Daniel is frozen but for the opposite reason. 

While his breath hitches at the tiny spark of panic upon meeting the _vanishing_ old lady again, Jihyo remains stoic and tries to run a thorough look at the old woman’s face, like an identity scanner on some spy movie. 

Something odd about the woman doesn’t settle nicely inside of her and only induces a storm of frustration, exasperation not because the old lady is _absurdly_ creepy and is invading her space, rather, exasperation over the fact that her mind–a near-perfect photographic one–has the ability to memorize all the faces she’s ever encountered her entire life, even those she’s only seen thoroughly once, and it usually takes just a snap of her fingers to sift through the files of her memories and _remember_ even just a single recollection, a fragment of a conversation, or just a glimpse of the role this person played in her life; but at the sight of this fondly-looking old lady, Jihyo’s mind is an ongoing war of sorts. A portion of it plays a foggy memory, distant and only recognizable by blurry movements and distorted colors, the knee-jerk reaction she's been talking about. But the bigger part of her mind, the one in charge of putting a name to the face, can’t churn out any clear answer but can promptly assure Jihyo that she _knows_ this lady, has _seen_ this lady, and _encountered_ her before. 

Jihyo just can't _fucking_ remember who or how the hell is this lady _so_ familiar to—

"I've seen her."

 _Wait a minute._ Jihyo feels a brain fart coming up with all the remembering she's been forcing it to do.

"She's on her way." 

_What._

Both Daniel and Jihyo can't help but voice out their confusion simultaneously. "What?" 

It elicits a charming and elegant chuckle from the old lady that steps back and flashes an equally familiar smile. 

"She's coming back home." 

Jihyo's mind is sorted out like a filing cabinet, all neatly labeled and organized ( _Bills due, Dates to remember, People to take care of)_ , but even with how meticulous and clean she keeps it to be, for the sake of her sanity, there is always that _one_ old cabinet where she keeps fragments of her childhood and past stored away (the people she's been with, the ones who've helped her grow). The keys to it aren't just thorough one-overs. She needs a certain intrinsic detail, probably the voice or a mention of a memorable line. 

When the old lady mentions _home_ the way she does, voice crippling but laced with something raw and pure, the old filing cabinet in Jihyo's head is unlocked, and the first memory that unblurs itself is that of a younger Nayeon, in their old Sailor-Moon looking uniform, eyes puffy and cheeks flushed red from all the crying. 

Jihyo sees through her own eyes and hears the word _home_ again, but in a different voice, in a different time, from a different person. When Nayeon mentions it, worded the _exact_ same way the old lady did, it’s like a bucket of ice cold water had been dropped on top of Jihyo’s head. 

_That’s impossible._

Her throat dries up at the only explanation her mind is able to procure for the unfathomable _familiarity_ the old lady brings. 

_It can’t be her._

“Who can’t be who?” 

Jihyo’s musings are abruptly cut at the sound of Daniel’s voice beside her, genuinely confused. “Who are you talking about?”

Unlike what felt like a few seconds ago, he’s already a few steps away from Jihyo, looking like he’s on his way back to his car. Wiped off his face is the panic-stricken frown from earlier, replaced by a pinch of his brows and honest bewilderment. 

Jihyo’s head looks around them, at the lack of the old lady’s presence. “The old lady...where is she?” 

“Oh, she left.” Daniel shrugs. “I was telling you that but you were too busy having a moment.” 

“She just...left?” 

Daniel nods nonchalantly. 

The frown on Jihyo’s face creases even more. Somewhere inside of her, a resting calm hovers above the stormy waters of her thoughts. 

“What were you talking about though? You looked like you had a _pretty_ intense moment earlier.” 

“I just...the old lady, she sounded familiar.” 

They make their ways down to their individual cars parked next to each other by the walkway. 

“Really?” Daniel stops in his steps and turns to his wife, walking her over to the Cadillac. “She sounds like Nana Park?” 

“No, not my grandmother.” Jihyo unlocks her door. “When she mentioned _home_ , she sounded like…” Jihyo still can’t wrap her mind around the thought itself. “...like Nayeon’s grandmother.” 

_But that’s impossible._

“Oh? Is that supposed to be bad?” Daniel holds the door open for Jihyo. 

“No, not really. Nayeon _loved_ her grandma. It’s just that...” Jihyo lets out a tiring sigh. “She passed away _years_ ago. Before Chaeyoung was even born.” 

“Maybe it’s just your mind thinking too much. You should drive back and get some rest.” 

Jihyo turns the car’s engine on. “Maybe. But...I don’t know. Just thinking about it gives me goosebumps.” 

“You think it’s her ghost?”

“Ghost? No.” When Jihyo thinks of the very _few_ memories she has of ever encountering Nayeon’s grandmother, she doesn’t really come up with anything remarkable except that the old woman, according to Nayeon’s words--who was already growing sick when they were still in middle school--was a florist and she owned an old flower shop that she had to shut down when Nayeon began having allergies. 

She was sweet, Nayeon’s grandmother. Jihyo never met her enough to get a precise outline of her personality, but for her to give up something she loved– _flowers_ –just for Nayeon, she must have been really nice and loving. 

“If she _did_ decide to ever pay a visit…” Jihyo lets a small, warm smile tug at her lips. “She’d probably be a guardian angel. And she would definitely meet Chaeyoung first before Nayeon.” 

***

( _She’s coming back home._

Jihyo dwells on the broken record playing inside of her head. 

_She’s coming back home._

She likes to think it’s Chaeyoung. Forces herself to _think_ it’s her. 

_She’s coming back home._

Because who else can it be? 

_She’s coming back home._

Jihyo ignores the other name she thinks of.)

***

“I can’t believe it.” Chaeyoung huffs just as she steps out of her _aunt_ Sana’s Volvo, still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that Chou Tzuyu’s moms are her aunt Sana and aunt Momo. _It’s like destiny, a wicked play of the universe._

“Trust me, I can’t too”, Tzuyu chuckles, climbing out of the Volvo from the passenger’s seat. She looks ahead at the small brick bungalow before them, gate swinging open. “Who would have thought our moms used to be best friends in high school? You should have told me before your mom was the legendary _Im Nayeon…”_

“What for? I didn’t think it would have been such a big of a deal.” Chaeyoung shrugs. “Besides, I don’t think my mom can bust a move as good as she did back then.”

Sana offered to drive Chaeyoung back to her house, after answering Chaeyoung’s questions regarding Yoo Jeongyeon and her bro, Kim Dahyun, as much as she could. (Although Sana can say she didn’t help much. She didn’t have the answers Chaeyoung was expecting to get)

“You’re underestimating your mother too much, Chaeyoungie.” Aunt Sana steps out of the driver’s seat and joins the two girls in front of the gate. “If Momoring was here she would have nagged your ears out about how amazing your mom had been–and still is–especially in showing off” 

It’s unfortunate how aunt Momo couldn’t be around for the small reunion. She’s still stuck managing party favors and planning for the event and Chaeyoung can’t stay around for long to wait. 

Sana turns to her daughter and links their arms together. “You should tell her about the party, sweetie. Chaeyoungie, you should come with Nabongs.”

 _Nabongs._ The term sends a flock of butterflies fluttering in Chaeyoung’s stomach. How lucky can her mother get--how lucky can _they_ get--that even after all these years, their friendship is still present and hanging. 

“Is it the gathering you were talking about earlier?” Chaeyoung turns to Tzuyu. 

“You call that a gathering?” Sana snorts, nudging her daughter’s forearm in jest. “Chaeyoungie, it’s going to be the _biggest party_ _ever_. I’ll have you known, I used to throw the biggest and coolest ones in town back then. Your mom used to come _all_ the time.”

Chaeyoung knows. _Sana Minatozaki and her Party of the Year._ She pretends she doesn’t, even though she’s been to one already. “Really?” 

“Yes, _really._ ” Sana irks her eyebrow and smugly replies. “We offered to host the after-party for the school festival but now that I know you’re here…” she links her other arm around Chaeyoung’s and pulls her close, side-hugging the two younger girls. “We’re going to celebrate _your_ birthday too.”

They make their way down the cobblestone pathway into the front door. Chaeyoung just hopes someone’s around to open the door. “You don’t have to do that--”

“We _want_ too, Chaengie.” Sana rests her head against Chaeyoung’s shoulder as they wait for someone to answer the doorbell. “Moments like this should be celebrated, you little tiger. It’s been so _long_ since we last saw you and your mom. We will never let you guys leave again.”

“I don’t think she’ll miss it for the world. She’s been... _missing_ you guys too.” 

“Do you think she’ll still come even if she finds out _someone else_ is invited?” 

_Oh._ It’s the slightest of possibilities that _she_ does come, according to aunt Sana herself, but even a sliver of light illuminates the darkness. The smallest of hope is still _hope_ . And Chaeyoung _prays_ this one, this one upcoming night, _she will come._ She wishes the universe will grant her mom her wish now. 

“I’ll make sure mom will come.” _I’ll make sure they reunite._

It takes a few more rings of the doorbell before a rustling sound reverberates from the other side of the door, followed by its opening and a raspy voice complaining, “Nayeon, stop playing with the doorbell again--”

Jihyo doesn’t get to finish her words, not when the breath is knocked out of her by the body launching at her, wrapping arms around Jihyo’s waist. 

Her first instinct is to push whoever the person is back, but her eyes land on a familiar face--aged well like fine wine--and a new one that feels a tiny bit familiar too--taller and younger-looking, Jihyo would have thought Sana found herself a _sugarbaby_ now if it weren’t for the fact that Tzuyu still looks just as adorable when Jihyo first saw her _years_ ago as a middle school student, and once last year too, at the summer camp--her nose settles on the scent of gentle strawberries and notes of subdued flowers. 

When Jihyo alters her widened eyes from the fond smiles on Sana and her daughter, Tzuyu, to the tousled hair behind the face that is nuzzling itself onto the crook of Jihyo’s neck, she immediately recognizes the girl. 

The same pair of arms whose hugged her countless of times--and yet _always_ complains about her _aunt Jihyo being too clingy;_

The same strawberry flavored shampoo she bought from the baby section in Olive Young--and _always_ got nagged about it because _aunt Jihyo, this is for babies!_ (to which Jihyo would _always_ reply back, “But you _are_ my baby!”);

And lastly, the same, all-too-familiar sound of soft whimpers and warm droplets of water soaking at her shirt--rarely does Jihyo _ever_ see it because Chaeyoung _never_ lets anyone see her cry, but when Jihyo does see it, she hugs her _little tiger cub_ closer and tighter, whispers sweet nothings and happy-endings again, and then promises to ruin _anyone_ responsible for those tears. 

At this moment, Jihyo does exactly the same. Because somehow, her body has found its natural way around Son Chaeyoung, and being there for the younger girl has always fallen intrinsically to Jihyo. She may not be Chaeyoung’s biological mother, but she’s _definitely_ someone close to that. 

“C-Chaeyoung?” Jihyo is fearless and powerful, but in this moment, she gives in to tears pooling at her eyes. “Chaeyoungie?” 

A stifled chuckle resonates, and the body pressed against Jihyo pulls away to show her face. Jihyo’s eyes trail slowly down, beginning from round and cheeks puffy, eyes gentle and drowsy, lips flushed and red, and then, that remarkable dark mole near her lower lip. 

Park Jihyo knows a _lot_ of faces, has a _lot_ of them stored away in her near-photographic memory, but the one she recognizes at that moment is her most favorite one yet. 

“Oh my god.” It leaves her lips in a sigh of relief, like a whispered announcement to the universe. “You’re home.” 

***

When Nayeon thinks of ever seeing Mina and Dahyun again–or _any_ of her friends, except that one other person who’s always an _exemption_ to everything–she imagines it over nice coffee (or tea for Mina), on a table by the window of a warm, beautiful cafe, catching up and recalling fond memories of their youth as well as all the other in-betweens. 

Nayeon does not, however, imagine it would _ever_ be over a free ride back to her house, sitting on the leather backseat of Mina’s _upgraded_ Range Rover, having small-talk about the _true_ nature of their visit after Nayeon’s managed to rant her entire heart out about Chaeyoung. 

“Jennie Kim. Remember her?” Mina smiles at Nayeon through the rearview mirror. Dahyun’s too busy sitting on the passenger’s seat, tending to Nayeon’s tears with the ply of tissue they keep at the compartment. 

“What about Jennie?” Of course Nayeon remembers. The girl– _woman_ –is always all over the place.

“The old school is celebrating founding day through another talent show festival. Jennie informed us.” Mina takes a turn when the GPS instructs her to. “They’re having the talent show again and they’re inviting all the past winners to perform or at least, be a part of the judging panel.” 

“You mean...that old dance we performed when we were seniors?” 

Dahyun laughs at the idea, finds it funny too how it feels like something as trivial as a talent show is all that it takes to bring them all together again. “We found it odd too. But Mina and I were looking for places to expand the ballet school and we thought about it a lot and decided the talent show invite was like...the universe’s way of telling us to come back. And probably build the ballet school here, which explains the property Chaeyoung got in trouble for.” 

“Oh…” Nayeon blows out her nose to the tissue and pretends a tear is streaming down her cheek. “I’m so happy for you two. Who would’ve thought you _two_ would end up with each other? Now here you are, building an empire with ballerina kids as your loyal soldiers and—”

“Unnie, you sound like a mom.” 

“I _am_ one.” Nayeon pokes at Dahyun’s rib, eliciting a yelp from the girl. “Which reminds me, this is such a _fucked up_ universe because the first time you’re about to meet Chaeyoung, my daughter is missing and here we are, about to look for her—"

“Oh, this isn’t my first time meeting Chaeyoung.” Dahyun hands over the entire box of tissues. 

Nayeon frowns, confused. “What do you mean?” 

Their sunshine girl left at the end of Nayeon’s senior year, a compromise she settled with her parents who had originally _urged_ her to drop the year but by some twisted fate, ended up letting her finish the academic year before shipping her back to their hometown, resulting into Dahyun never getting to stay long enough to be present at Chaeyoung’s birth. 

Nayeon would know. The only people around her when she woke up from her sleep were Jihyo, Dongwoon, and Dongwoon’s mom. 

“Oh...uh...yeah...you probably don’t know it but we visited...a couple of times.” 

“But I thought you were in Japan the entire time?” Nayeon throws her frown over at Mina, who catches a glimpse from the rearview mirror. 

“I was. With Sana and Momo.” 

And Nayeon was with Jihyo in Apgujeong. Leaving only one person who could possibly be Dahyun’s company all those missing times. 

Nayeon doesn’t have the heart to believe it, even when Dahyun looks at her with such downcasted, earnest eyes, apologetic in silence. 

“You...you visited...with….” The name falters before it can even escape her lips. 

“I, once. Her, _twice._ ” 

“When?” _Why didn’t you show up? Why didn’t you tell me you two were around? Why didn’t she come see me?_ So many questions and yet all Nayeon can voice out is a simple, trembling, “When?” 

“The first time we were together.” Whoever the _when_ is directed to, Dahyun figures out without any uncertainty. “We were there on the day Chaeyoung was born.” 

There’s a sudden emptiness in Nayeon that feels all too familiar, a certain emptiness that only comes when thoughts of the life she lived after Jeongyeon resurfaces. It’s something inevitable nowadays, sparked up by the outburst she had with Chaeyoung. Even though it feels recurrent, the aftermath it leaves is still as catastrophic as the first time. Back then the pain it left when Jeongyeon went away had a silver lining. Nayeon knew, one way or another, _she’ll come back._ Nearly twenty years later, the pain it leaves whenever Jeongyeon runs through Nayeon’s mind is something akin to ripping off a bandaid on a healing wound–or at least, Nayeon forces herself to _think_ it’s healing. 

It hurts even more now, knowing Nayeon has no idea anymore if _she’ll ever come back._

“Why didn’t she—” 

“I didn’t know back then, unnie, but I realized a little later on, the first person we saw on our way to your room was Chaeyoung’s dad. That cool art dude from Yonsei?” Dahyun trails off, scratching the back of her head. “I think...I think Jeongyeon unnie thought you and him were…” 

_Oh no..._

“The second time she visited, I only found out after she called me the night of her flight back to California.” Dahyun still remembers it clearly. It was midnight and she was staying up late to finish work when she received an international call. She didn’t think twice about answering. “She was rambling all about how adorable Chaeyoung was, performing at a school recital.” 

By the time Nayeon realizes the catastrophic aftermath of Yoo Jeongyeon in her heart, the car’s already stopping in front of her gate, swinging open along with the afternoon breeze. 

Nayeon takes another tissue and dabs it underneath her eyes. For a split second, she looks away and catches a glimpse of something else, a figure moving outside. On a normal occasion, Nayeon would focus on understanding _this_ matter first, because a eighteen years’ worth of questions had just been answered in a single minute and it's _all_ too overwhelming, but the figure outside warrants another look from Nayeon, a double check to confirm she’s seeing what she _is_ seeing and it’s not just _another_ fragment of her miserable longing to see her daughter again, because the movement isn’t just from a single person but at least three, and, come to think of it, _since when did a Volvo ever park in front of the house?_

The front door is open–Nayeon thinks it’s Jihyo–but then again, Jihyo never left the house wearing pajamas. She squints harder and steps out of the car, heart beating against her chest hard enough to rip it open. Another figure passes, it’s like they’re walking back and forth in the living room, the door left open for the world outside to see. 

_Jihyo never leaves the door open._

“Are you okay, unnie?” Dahyun pushes her door open, ready to step down. 

Nayeon doesn’t get to answer anymore, however. There’s a surge of newfound energy inside of her, enough that she can carry her two feet and run towards her house like a mad woman. 

“CHAEYOUNG—” 

But it’s not her daughter she sees first. A girl is sitting on the living room sofa, poised and elegant, clad in a white shirt and trousers. She’s beautiful, but the thought is overlooked by the fact that the girl is a stranger and when a stranger is inside someone else’s house without any consent, it is considered trespassing. However, before Nayeon can even utter a single word out, her favorite voice beats her to it.

“Mom?”

***

Even if the universe would throw the greatest of storms and the deepest of oceans in between Nayeon and Chaeyoung, Nayeon would gladly brave herself through all of it if it meant being with her daughter again.

The universe had been the cruelest to her for having everyone she ever loved leave her at the end. Nevertheless, Nayeon still forgives it for all the torment, the pain, and the sadness.

When Nayeon prayed to the heavens to give her someone who would _finally_ stay, the universe gave her Chaeyoung. 

And the very moment she cradled a newborn Chaeyoung in her arms, in the middle of the hysteria that had enveloped the delivery room the last hour or so, she found a calmness in her heart seeing such tiny beautiful eyes, a button of a nose, and pursed tiny lips. Chaeyoung's frail little fingers moved and found itself holding Nayeon's thumb like a handrail for life. Little did she know, it was her who had given Nayeon back the light she had felt disappearing inside of her a long time ago.

That very first moment she held her child replays itself in the instant, the split second, her eyes lay upon the figure standing a few feet away. It’s only been hours without her and yet those hours had felt like the longest, most agonizing time of Nayeon’s life.

“Ya.” Nayeon’s voice trembles and she has to blink to settle the surging waters in her eyes. She takes one step and then two, and when her arms get to feel the familiar warmth of _her life_ again, Nayeon feels like crumbling then and there. 

“Mom...I'm sorry...” It’s almost funny to Chaeyoung how she’s been gone for _months_ in her time but it feels like nothing relatively overwhelming has happened to her much–aside from reuniting with her _aunts_ again, befriending the _coolest_ bro- _aunt?_ ever, and meeting her mother’s great love, that is–but in the _hours_ that she was gone from the present time, from her mother’s life, putting voice into the term feels all too unfamiliar and natural at the same time. 

The woman before her isn’t her _Nayeon unnie_ anymore, not the girl everyone was so terrified of, not the girl who was always left behind and leaving people behind. 

The woman before her is her _mom_ , and Chaeyoung thinks no other word can suffice to describe who her mother is to her. 

“Come here…” Nayeon opens her arms for the smaller girl and takes all of her in when they _finally_ embrace. It’s all too much, and raw and powerful, and emotional and all-encompassing. Nayeon thinks _fuck the universe_. All she’ll ever wish for is an eternity spent with her daughter by her side. “Don’t ever leave me again. Please.” 

Chaeyoung takes in the feeling of embracing her mother again, takes in the innate warmth it gives, the familiarity. It feels natural, as if it’s what’s supposed to happen after all this time. Because the tides come and go, and time won’t probably ever let her travel again, but all is good and one thing remains certain: Nayeon will _always_ be there. She's the one who’s going to stay. 

***

Of course Nayeon thinks Chaeyoung doesn't remember the women around her. Of course she would think, her child's infant mind wouldn't hold the ability to memorize the faces of the women who have helped in raising her, who have showered her with endless love (and gifts) like she was their very own. Of course, Dahyun would be an exemption. Nayeon raises such beautiful words to talk about Dahyun. Of course. 

_We used to call her our sunshine girl. She's our youngest. She's our baby in the group._

But all Chaeyoung is left to do, while her mother goes through lengths telling stories about their blissful youth, is smile fleetingly at everybody around her, eyes crinkled into half-crescent moons. Her mother narrates events Chaeyoung personally knows because she's been in them, had taken part in them, was personally _there._

_We were the coolest in high school. I even used to hate your aunt Mina._

(To which, aunt Mina coolly agrees to. "She did.")

_We hung out at the arcade, attended parties. We were...what do you kids call it nowadays...uh..._

(Aunt Jihyo chirps in. "The bomb?")

 _Yes, we were_ the bomb. 

An old Chaeyoung would snort at that, roll her eyes until they meet the back of her head. How could her mother and aunt Jihyo possibly be _cool_? But the new Chaeyoung, improved with time (literally) can attest to the words herself. She was in all those memories after all but, in return for the universe's granting of her wish, had ended up becoming a glitch in everyone's memory, a blurred face they remember but can't quite identify. 

As expected, and not quite so at the same time, it's Dahyun who brings it up. (Or, Chaeyoung should say, _aunt_ Dahyun)

"There used to be this girl I hung out with while everybody was with someone else." 

All eyes turn to Dahyun. Chaeyoung doesn't miss the fond way aunt Mina looks at her. She hates herself for never noticing _anything_ during her stay in 1998.

"I don't remember much about her though." Dahyun pouts. Aunt Mina smiles at it. "But she was nice. And cool. She was my _bro_." 

"Is she the one you replaced J—" Of course. Expect aunt Sana to slip first. She doesn't blunder entirely though. She navigates around the _name_ everybody else in the table–except aunt Sana herself and Tzuyu–thinks Chaeyoung doesn't know. "—Jumbo hotdogs for? Is she the one you replaced jumbo hotdogs for? You used to buy those after classes _all the time_ but ever since you met her, you never did anymore." 

Okay. So it wasn't as _smooth_ as Chaeyoung thought her aunt Sana would pacify it with. Still. It works. Kind of?

"She was", Dahyun goes along. She smiles over at Chaeyoung's direction and it all feels and _looks_ so familiar, it sends an ache in Chaeyoung's heart. "We used to play pogs and catch beetles back then. She was cool. Not as much as me though."

Chaeyoung accidentally snorts at that. _As if._ Thankfully, nobody notices.

The conversation picks up and aunt Sana shares more of her stories, awkwardly trying _not_ to slip again, all about old cheer practices and how acclaimed her mother used to be as a cheer captain. Chaeyoung indulges herself in the mini-reunion, as if she was part of it–because in a way she really was–and drifts into her own thought bubble, like a dreamy monologue in a movie. The voices around the table tune down until they're all but distinct muffling, as if Chaeyoung was covering her ears, and then she looks around again. On the smiling faces of the people around her, of the subdued laughter. 

Chaeyoung tries to remember a time they were like this. Back in 1998. She searches through her memories, fresh and vivid, but finds none. Because the only time they were ever complete, her mother and Jeongyeon were always bickering, her aunt Sana and aunt Momo were in a different world themselves, aunt Mina was probably with aunt Jihyo discussing actual concerns and being damage control, and Dahyun was all in her own, until Chaeyoung came along.

The only time they were ever like this, Chaeyoung probably wasn't there. She was probably sick, because most of her missed chances occurred until that context. 

So now that she's here, sitting in the middle of her mother and aunt Jihyo, smiling at the sight of them laughing and being like old times again, Chaeyoung thinks the universe purposely did what it did to put her here now. In this moment. On her birthday. With all of them. 

Although they're not yet complete–because _god_ knows Chaeyoung needs to prep her mom first before pushing her off to war–Chaeyoung knows all she has to do is wait. For a few days. _Aunt Sana did say she was coming too right?_ Chaeyoung should also pray the universe won't screw it up this time. Pray her _mom_ won't screw it up this time. 

Everything's going to be settled just like how Chaeyoung remembers it was ruined in the first place. At a _goddamn_ party. 

***

(When the night falls, everyone bids their see-you-soon's and sings Chaeyoung one last happy birthday–after a _thousand_ from earlier–Chaeyoung feels like her birthday has spanned two decades long. It feels like it's her 40th birthday and not 19th. 

She feels ancient at the nostalgia that seeps into her bones. Her _aunts_ speak of the events as if they happened _decades ago–_ because they did–yet in Chaeyoung's eyes, everything happened just two months ago. But they spoke in past tense, used _back then_ very often, and started most of their narratives with _during our time_. And Chaeyoung completely saw herself in every memory, raw and vividly, because she _was_ there too. And it all makes her feel _old_ and exhausted, and frail and crippling. 

And the only time she ever feels 19 again– _ugh, the age feels new to her–_ is when she's in her pajamas, supposedly walking down the hall to her room– _e_ _ven that feels unfamiliar too–_ but is stopped halfway into entering her old room, by a sliver of light peeking from an opened door, by her mother calling her over to her room. 

Nayeon is sitting up on her bed, random objects and photographs sprawled around her. When Chaeyoung sits down beside her mom, just as she's told to do, she catches a closer look at the objects and recognizes them instantly. They're the pictures and other mementos she stumbled upon in the storage room, the thing that probably began everything else.

Nayeon explains and tries to recall with all her fragmented memory works the stories behind each photograph. There weren't many that Chaeyoung could recall for herself. The only picture she happened to remember was group one taken at the old ballroom they turned as their own practice space. Chaeyoung recalls it from the way everyone looked and dressed. It was the night before aunt Sana's party, the same night she fell sick–and probably missed the photo op because they sent her back to the dorms.

_Good one, universe. I see what you did there._

Nayeon takes her time until all that's left to tell is the story behind Yoo Kyungwan, or as Chaeyoung fondly remembers, her favorite _Jeongyeon unnie._

"She was..." Nayeon takes her time. She doesn't think any word could properly encapsulate just who Jeongyeon was–is–to her.

Nayeon takes her time. Until she figures it out. 

"She was my choice. In every situation, in every decision, in every life. For as long as I could breathe I would choose her." 

"And would you still do..." Chaeyoung looks at her mom and sees how she states at the fading yellow post-it. "If you see her again?" 

"I think..." it would be the perfect moment to make a cheesy comment at how Chaeyoung is enough, having her is enough–because it is, Chaeyoung knows that herself–but Nayeon doesn't take it. Her mother never grabbed the perfect opportunity. "I think this time it's up to her."

Nayeon packs up the photographs and memorabilia back into the box, setting it down on her bedside table. She pulls Chaeyoung close and lets her daughter snuggle against her side. 

"I've been making the decisions for as long as I can remember. We're old enough now to choose for ourselves. If it's meant to be, she'll choose me." 

"But what if—"

Nayeon can't help but chuckle at her daughter's sudden interest and persistence. "What if, _nothing._ It's your day, why are you interrogating me?" 

"I just...I don't want you to be alone, mom." Chaeyoung rests her head against her mother's chest, hugging her tighter. "You should be with someone you love. And by the looks of it, I don't think it will ever be anyone that's not her." 

"I have you. I'm fine with that." Nayeon smiles, pressing a chaste kiss on top of Chaeyoung's head. "Besides, you're too old to play cupid and I'm too old to date. Our love story ended way before it even began." 

"Trust me, mom. It's not yet too late." 

Nayeon doesn't say anything else. She just smiles and hates the part of her that wishes the same. Hopes the same. 

For now, she settles with what she has. _I'm fine with anything as long as I have you.)_

* * *

"Many times 

We were tragic,

But many times

We were happy too."

– nikka ursula (n.t)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so there's that :) before you comment, please do consider!! your!! words!! and think!! first!! before pressing the button!! pls dont be too mean :(( 
> 
> also, they began to drift at a party (1998) and they will mend again at a party, twenty years later (2018) ;)) 
> 
> i will admit this one chapter will induce a lot of questions probably because i intended for that to happen. because only one person can answer those. and of course i will be saving the BEST, most anticipated reunion for last. hihi 
> 
> this was heavily inspired by taeyeon's time lapse.


	16. the spirit of 1998

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's an invincible force that drives the universe insane, a powerful existence that, with proper execution, can even conquer time and space.
> 
> When Chaeyoung looks at the people around her, she figures out the name to this unyielding force. 
> 
> She calls it Love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to the last ride. *sign of the cross*

_“I, once. Her, twice. ”_

It’s hard to fight the ghostly, wandering voice in Nayeon’s head. The room is rendered still and quiet, and the only other noise she can hold onto for semblance is her daughter’s soft snoring beside her, snuggling close to her body. 

Nayeon unknowingly runs a soft hand down strands of Chaeyoung’s shoulder-length hair. She looks down on the crown of her daughter’s head and plants a lingering kiss on it, unable to whisk herself away from the memories that came along Dahyun’s lingering voice in her head. 

Behind Chaeyoung, the alarm clock on the nightstand flashed **23:49** in bright red, flickering in a cadence. It’s ten minutes before her daughter’s birthday ends. It’s ten minutes enough for Nayeon to indulge in Dahyun’s recollection of the exact day, 19 years ago; 

Of how they stayed long enough to meet Chaeyoung before everybody else did, but not long enough to stay for Nayeon. 

* * *

_The night and the day had blended somewhere in between, and the sky was a majestic painting of orange and red hues meeting a dark blue canvas and its tiny, shimmering white freckles._

_There was a window at the end of the hallway. Kim Dahyun saw the universe meet halfway for this child._

_“There she is, unnie.” She pointed her index against the glass surface, to the general direction of five other more tiny humans wrapped in similar pink blankets, resting in cots near the window pane, to her Jeongyeon unnie’s right._

_“Where?” Jeongyeon couldn’t find the baby for the life of her, however. Every tiny human looked the same in her eyes–sleeping with dumpling-like cheeks, little eyes tight shut, wrapped in blankets between blue and pink–it was hard to distinguish which one was the tiny human Jeongyeon considered like her own._

_“There, unnie!” Dahyun’s whispering voice rose as she aggressively pointed in the same direction. “Are you blind!? Why can't you find her?!”_

_At the tone Dahyun was using at the older girl, Jeongyeon wouldn’t be surprised if the younger girl smashed her head against the glass window out of frustration. Who could blame Dahyun though? If only her unnie had been careful enough, she wouldn’t have left her glasses on her plane seat in her flight._

_Even in their rush, the two girls still didn’t make it in time to be at the delivery. Upon checking with the receptionist and finding out the nursery was on the 8th floor and the postpartum rooms were on the 12th, Dahyun had urged her unnie to look for the baby and meet her little human bro first._

_They didn’t expect a challenge, however, when they ended up in front of the hospital nursery’s viewing window, realizing neither of them know anything about the child other than her being Im Nayeon’s (and Yoo Jeongyeon’s, but that was a topic Dahyun had yet to confront her unnie with)_

_Thankfully, a nurse must have been watching the frustration on their faces for quite some time, enough to acknowledge them by the door of the nursery._

_“May I help you?” She asked Jeongyeon and Dahyun with a warm smile akin to how nice daycare teachers would to their tiny students._

_Dahyun perked up, unaware that her hushed whispering hadn’t been as effective as she thought it was being. “Uh...we...we were looking for…” In their ultimate hurry, they weren’t able to ask for any other information about the baby. “Um…”_

_“Our friend just gave birth?” Thankfully, her Jeongyeon unnie had always been quick-witted, able to come to Dahyun’s rescue. “We were looking for her little one.”_

_“Ah…” the nurse trailed off with a nod. She reached for something beside the door, a clipboard. “You should fill up this viewing log first, as a record for future references.”_

_She handed the clipboard over to Jeongyeon who, in return, shoved it over to Dahyun to fill up._

_“May I ask for the surname of the parent?” The nurse left the door open for the two girls to enter, but not before they wore the required protective wears._

_There was only a certain space allotted for viewing relatives and friends. The actual nursery room was only for hospital personnel and those who wished to hold and see the babies up close had to fill up the viewing log and do so by the waiting area with a time limit._

_Dahyun watched from her side as Jeongyeon scoffed behind the nurse’s back. Everybody knew her unnie had been yearning to meet “the Devil’s spawn” now and to be up close with the little human for only a few minutes wasn’t enough._

_Jeongyeon was there for almost the entirety of her Nayeon unnie’s ten-month journey and had only left to move away a few weeks before the big date. She never failed to mention how the days that passed by in between were like a blur; they felt like years. An eternity of torment._

_Nothing else occupied Jeongyeon's brain other than the agitation and fear that grew the nearer the day approached. When it finally did, Jeongyeon used up all her savings from part-time jobs in California just to be able to afford the cheapest seat in a direct flight from California to Seoul._

_Although they were still late and Jeongyeon looked incredibly regretful not being there for Nayeon when she needed someone the most, Jeongyeon was here now. She and Dahyun were. They were here now._

_"Miss, what's the parent's surname?"_

_“Oh, uh...Im. The little one is a girl.”_

_The nurse hummed in acknowledgement before proceeding inside the room again, closing the glass door in between the narrow waiting area and the nursery._

_Jeongyeon watched as the lady moved along the left side of the room, looking through the cots with pink blanket-wrapped tiny babies._

_Dahyun finally finished filling up the logbook with the necessary information–name, relationship with the patient, contact number–before plopping down on one of the waiting benches and pulling her Jeongyeon unnie down beside her._

_“Stop fidgeting, unnie. You’re stressing me out.” Dahyun returned the logbook to the table beside the door. “Just relax, okay? The baby can feel the stress. It’s not good for them.”_

_Even on the cushions of the waiting seat, Jeongyeon was shaking. “I just… what if something’s wrong?! What if the baby’s here and not with Nayeon right now because they have to check on her? Something might be—”_

_“It hasn’t been that long since Nayeon unnie gave birth, unnie.” Dahyun groaned. “You’re thinking too much. Nothing’s wrong. Stop manifesting it.”_

_Jeongyeon huffed bitterly at the choice of words. “I’m not_ manifesting _anything—”_

_“Excuse me?” The door to the nursery room opened again. The two immediately jumped up to a stand. The nurse reappeared with a small frown, empty-handed. “There are no babies with the surname Im here.”_

_Dahyun spoke too soon._

_Beside her, Jeongyeon collapsed into the seat. “W-What?”_

_“Are you sure your friend was checked-in here?” The nurse asked, a trace of doubt in her tone. “There is only one nursery in the hospital and all the newborns are in here.”_

_Jeongyeon looked as if she was about to faint. Dahyun had to think fast. What in the world would Nayeon unnie name the baby? Did she suddenly change her surname to—_

Oh no. 

_“Um…” Although the heartbreak was understandable, Dahyun prayed her unnie wouldn’t faint then and there. “Is there a baby with the surname…”_ What was the guy’s name again? Ah! “ _Son?”_

_“Son?” The nurse repeated. “I’ll check again. Please wait here.”_

_When Dahyun looked back at her unnie, the older girl already looked like all the life in her had been flushed out. Jeongyeon was sitting with her shoulders slumped, staring at the ground. She was about to approach the older girl and knock some sense into her gently because Nayeon probably had no choice but to have the baby take after her biological father’s surname, but before Dahyun could do anything, the nurse reappeared again and this time, she was pushing a wheeled baby cot in front of her._

_“Here she is.” The frown on the nurse’s face was no longer there, replaced by a warm smile as she glanced down on the baby wrapped up in a pink blanket, sleeping soundly in her cot._

_“Baby Son, born 3.26 kilograms and 50 centimeters long. Your friend did a great job.”_

_Dahyun didn’t know what to say. The little human was beautiful beyond words–even though she looked just like all the other sleeping babies and the only confirmation they had that the child was indeed Nayeon’s was the familiar stuffed bunny sitting by the corner of the cot, almost like a guardian angel over the baby._

_The two recognized it immediately. It was the stuffed toy Nayeon never slept without._

_“Can I...can I hold her?” Dahyun could hear the tremble in her unnie’s voice. When she looked up at the older girl, there were glistening eyes and a trail of tears down one of her cheeks. Her hands were reaching out for the little sleeping baby and when Jeongyeon finally held her, it felt like she was cradling the universe in her arms. Nothing mattered anymore._

_“She’s beautiful, unnie…” Dahyun mustered all the courage inside of her to stand up and look at the tiny human. She can’t blame her Jeongyeon unnie for crying now. Her eyes were also welling up with tears. “What do you think did Nayeon unnie name her?”_

_Jeongyeon sniffed back, wiping her cheek on the fabric of her sleeve. “Probably something weird”, she chuckled a little. “Like Tokki or Ddalgi. She was really into strawberries during her last month.”_

_Dahyun smiled, thinking how cute it was having a little human named after an animal or a fruit. Whatever her Nayeon unnie named the baby, she was sure it was going to be a pretty name. For now, she was going to call the tiny human by her rightful title._

_“I have to do it, unnie.”_

_Jeongyeon frowned. “Do what?”_

_Dahyun didn’t answer. She reached for the baby’s arm slipping out of her blanket, and looked at the nurse first for permission before proceeding to do what she had to do, something Jeongyeon already understood._

_“Oh my god. Are you seriously going to—”_

_“I’m going to claim it.” Dahyun gently folded the tiny fingers into an equally tiny fist. “This tiny human is going to be my bro. My best bro.”_

_Dahyun’s fist was as big as her tiny bro’s head._

_“Pow~”_

_They sealed it with a bro-fist._

_“This tiny human is my new bro. I claim her."_

***

(Nayeon almost chokes in her drink that night. “You _bro-fisted_ my baby?” 

Dahyun laughs it off now, despite the slight pinch on the older woman’s brows. “I did it as gently as I could. Don’t worry, unnie.”)

***

_After meeting the child, the two went on their way to visit the mother._

_Jeongyeon was ecstatic, Dahyun could see it in the way her unnie had springs on her feet, skipping on her steps when they got off the elevator on the 12th floor._

_Although they barely had any information about Nayeon’s specific hospital room, the hall didn’t seem long enough for them to take a day looking through each name on the door tags. There were about 15 rooms lining down the hall._

_“How do we find her room?” Jeongyeon frowned. She glanced at her right, Dahyun looked to her left._

_“Do you want to split up and—”_

_Jeongyeon’s voice was cut, however, abruptly and followed by a hollow and pained, “Oh.”_

_Dahyun turned to where her unnie was looking. “Why? Did you find her?”_

_She followed the direction of the older girl’s gaping eyes and slacked jaw, and saw it. The heavy “Oh.” was understandable now._

_Dahyun had only met Son Dongwoon a total of three times._

_The first time was during Sana’s party, although he was merely a memorable face in the crowd back then. He was lean and tall with a muscular build that could easily attract attention. The second and third times were when he dropped by the dorm with his mother to check up on Nayeon. He was a nice guy, and was formally introduced to the group once, but Nayeon had long made sure nothing went on between them._

_Still, the intention was only voiced out and clarified on her side. Everyone could see how Dongwoon had heart eyes for Nayeon. It was the reason why she and Jeongyeon fought a few times. They always made up after though._

_But that was before. Before Jeongyeon had left for California. In the times she was gone, Dongwoon had all the opportunity to woo Nayeon and offer her a better life._

_The sight of him all smiles, carrying a baby bag and a familiar-looking bunny-print blanket hanging on his forearm, had Jeongyeon feeling something inside of her that even Dahyun was afraid to put a name on. She could see the clenched fist of her unnie, hanging limp at the older girl’s side._

_“Unnie…”_

_Jeongyeon couldn’t hear though. Probably intentionally didn’t. She was looking at Dongwoon like he was her enemy (which, to be frank, was the situation)._

_Dahyun reached for the clenched fist. “Unnie…don’t—”_

_But before anything else could happen, however, Dahyun’s hand was already in Jeongyeon’s hold, and she was already being dragged away to the opposite direction of the hall, where the elevators were waiting._

_“Where are we going?”_

_Jeongyeon pressed on the elevator button aggressively. “Out of here.”_

_“W-What?” Dahyun couldn’t believe it. “But Nayeon unnie, she—”_

_“She’s already with that dumbo. They look like they need their family time more.”_

_The elevator doors finally opened. Dahyun couldn’t understand a thing that was happening. One second they were planning to split up to find her Nayeon unnie’s room and now they were leaving._

_“But unnie, we—”_

_“IF YOU WANT TO GO WITH THEM, THEN GO!”_

_The people inside the elevator looked at them with widened eyes. Jeongyeon stepped inside the elevator. Dahyun...Dahyun felt like she had just been slapped in the face. Jeongyeon never raised her voice on her._

_Dahyun stepped inside the tense elevator, head hanging low. She tried to stifle back her sobs. “I’m sorry, unnie.”_

_Jeongyeon didn’t say anything._

_She didn’t, even when she left for her flight the next morning._

***

(“She...she thought there was something between me and Dongwoon?” 

“She never said anything, unnie, but I think she assumed there was something…” 

“She never bothered to ask me?” Nayeon could feel the tightening in her chest. 

The entire room had silenced down by now, listening to the conversation. Thank goodness Chaeyoung was outside with her aunt Mina and aunt Jihyo. She wasn’t around to see her mom cry over her high school great love.

Dahyun looks down with a small frown. “I’m really sorry, unnie. But she never got mad at you. She was just mad at…”

“At everything else? At the universe?” _At herself?_

“I’m sorry, unnie.”)

***

Nayeon looks down on her sleeping daughter again and gently pulls her closer. 

_You should be with someone you love. And by the looks of it, I don't think it will ever be anyone that's not her._

“I don’t think the universe would be that kind, baby.” She whispers softly, resting her chin on her daughter’s head. “But if it’ll be, I hope it lets me fix us first.” 

Behind Chaeyoung, the alarm clock on the nightstand flashes **24:00** in bright red, flickering in a cadence. It’s officially the end of her daughter’s birthday. 

***

Nayeon and Chaeyoung find themselves settling down into a new kind of _normalcy._

Their lives change in a span of a week. Here’s how it goes:

**April 24th**

Following an aggressively-filed resignation email to the second company she's ever worked at, Nayeon stays at home and tries to begin making up for _years_ of missing out on so much of her daughter’s life. 

While contemplating about what to do for the day, Chaeyoung asks her mother regarding her heavily overlooked school matters. 

They’re weirdly sprawled on Nayeon’s bed, the aftermath of a well-deserved, _amazing_ sleep, Chaeyoung’s one leg resting over her mother’s torso while one arm is hugging her close. She asks about school in a muffled, saccharinely sleep-laced voice, “Mom, did they kick me out?” 

“Who?” 

“The school.” 

_Ah…_ “No, they didn’t.” _They couldn’t._

Nayeon commends herself and her innate prodigious skills in negotiation and the art of persuasion for being able to work out a more lenient sanction for her daughter. If Chaeyoung wasn’t trying to block the blood circulation of her arms with how tight she’s squeezing them in a hug, Nayeon would have flexed. 

“They wouldn’t be able to. Not on my watch.” She flashes a smug smile instead, at no one in particular. “I was able to negotiate a one week suspension and fifteen days of clean-up duty. It’s better than the one month community service. They wanted you to pick up trash in the field after games. Pfft.”

_Those assholes. They dare make my child pick up other dirty garbage to save their eco-unfriendly asses? Mother Nature doesn’t deserve anymore damage. There are special places in hell for those sons of bitches—_

“You know you’re amazing, right, mom?” 

For the first time that morning, Nayeon is rendered speechless. 

Chaeyoung untangles herself from her mother and sits up properly, facing Nayeon with heavy lids and a fleeting smile. 

Nayeon feels the inclination to search for _any_ trace of sarcasm on her daughter’s face. If the comment had come from somebody else, her initial reaction would be an indifferent shrug, because _duh, of course I’m aware of my own greatness._ She’s grown up receiving all kinds of praises–from her beauty to her talent. _Everything_ –and has been accustomed to all sorts of people kissing her ass. Other people try to magnify their efforts and change things up. Pretty became _gorgeous._ Hot became _sexually attractive._ But every comment had always felt lackluster and meaningless with how repetitive they’ve become over time, to the point where they no longer meant anything to Nayeon but empty talk.

With her daughter, however, Nayeon feels a clump of emotions growing in her chest, climbing up in pinpricks of tears forming around her eyes. When she finds no hint of mockery on Chaeyoung’s face and is only met with meaningful eyes that carry nebulas within them, like Nayeon’s entire _universe_ is looking back at her, she can’t help but feel overwhelmingly _happy_. 

“You think I’m amazing?” _My daughter thinks I’m amazing!_

Chaeyoung can’t help but chuckle. “I think you’re a lot of things, mom. Amazing is just one of them.” 

It's _amazing_ how all the million other compliments and praises Nayeon's ever received in her entire life suddenly don't come close to this _one_ word from her daughter. Nothing ever mattered as much as this one. 

"Thank you, baby." Nayeon pulls Chaeyoung into an embrace again, hiding her embarrassing tears away. She runs a hand down the ends of her daughter's sleep-tousled hair and smoothens the tangles. "You're even more amazing, you know that? You're _perfect._ "

They spend that entire day just lounging in Nayeon’s room, going over movies and talking about Chaeyoung’s _cool_ time traveling dreams. 

***

**April 25th**

On this cloudy day, the mother and daughter duo spend the entire twenty-four hours cleaning up every nook and cranny of their house. Nayeon has never been one to spend the luxury of a rest day wiping counters, vacuuming floors, and changing pillowcases, but for the sake of her daughter’s wish to _tidy things around_ , she gladly paraded around the house in her best cleaning apron (something they found _after_ cleaning the entire storage room), and began upholding the domestic life she never got to enjoy wholeheartedly. 

Jihyo arrives a little later that day, bearing snacks and chicken for dinner. They eat in the living room, talking about their plans for the next few days, with the television playing a random variety show in the background. 

It’s during this time–roughly around nine in the evening–just after Chaeyoung and Nayeon bid Jihyo their goodbyes, when Chaeyoung brings up a sudden question, something that renders Nayeon choking in the can of coke zero she’s drinking. 

"I think that you should open your heart again." 

Nayeon's head unknowingly tilts to the side, eyebrows furrowed together and lips pursed. Her puzzled frown reflects the wondering in her head. What is her daughter talking about? 

Nayeon doesn't recall any cardiovascular disease diagnosis that needs immediate surgical treatment. She also isn't a registered organ donor to _open her heart_ (although the idea doesn't sound so bad) just so randomly—

"Why don't you go out and date again?" 

_Ooooooh. Oh. Oh?_

_"Date?"_ The word slips out of Nayeon's lips with a distasteful bite, as if her daughter had just asked her for something as preposterous as a baby sibling or even worse, a _dad._ Just the mere thought sends Nayeon's system into panic mode. "You want me to _date_ ? As in, _romantically_ see other people?" 

It's not that the idea hasn't flashed itself to Nayeon more than a necessary number of times–her mind had become shallow waters and for every adult problem she had to entertain, her go-to answer were always questions like _what if I have someone else to share this problem with? Would that lighten up the weight on my shoulders?–_ but that option would always get washed away by the bigger picture hanging in Nayeon's head like a gargantuan billboard. It's a picture of Chaeyoung, Nayeon's constant reminder to _do good, decide better._

In this life, she is not making decisions just for herself anymore. Nayeon always justified things with Chaeyoung’s existence, that it warranted serious deliberation upon every single decision in her life. 

But in hindsight, did that do any good? 

In the end, had Chaeyoung not confronted her mother the night before her birthday, would they be talking about this matter as freely as they are doing it now, tired-lidded eyes and fleeting droopy smiles, laughing in their heads at their miraculously repairing mother-daughter relationship?

Nayeon knows the obvious answer is _no._

Because if what happened that night never happened, she wouldn't have _ever_ found out Chaeyoung's side of the matter, that her dysfunctional version of a _loving, cool mom_ was already hurting her own child.

They wouldn't be here right now, living a life in their own definition of _perfect,_ if it weren't for the turbulences of the past. A change in the system of things has paved the way for a brighter future for them. 

_So does that mean a change of heart too?_

"Honey, are you okay?" Nayeon reaches over the dining table and presses her palm on her daughter's forehead, just to be sure. "Do you feel a headache? Are you sick or something?"

"Or something", Chaeyoung answers with a chuckle, batting her mother's hand away. "I'm okay, mom. I just...I've been thinking a lot and…"

"Oh no." 

"...and I realized something." 

Nayeon tries to calm her erratic heart down. She fails miserably. "What did you magically realize, kid?"

From this position, Chaeyoung sitting with slumped shoulders clad in her strawberry-printed pajamas, looking up at Nayeon so innocently and affectionately, hair tousled and traces of exhaustion visible here and there, Nayeon can't help but see _someone else_ from her daughter’s face, the very same person her daughter takes up after so much. 

"You've turned down so many opportunities when you had me. You could have gone to college, study law, become a fantastic attorney now. You could be living in a giant penthouse overlooking the Swiss Alps. Your waking days wouldn't be shared with a pain-in-the-ass daughter like me. You could have been married now. And you would have a better daughter with your wife. Someone who wouldn't run away and call you a bad parent. Someone who would love you more." Chaeyoung looks down on her fumbling hands, fiddling with the hem of the table cloth. "All I'm saying is...without me, you could have lived such a better life, mom. A life you deserve. The happiness the universe owes you. That's why I want to make up to you."

“A _perfect life_ is subjective, you know, sweetie?” Nayeon smiles at her daughter, softly, surely. “Everybody else might think the perfect life is a penthouse up in the Alps or an extravagant career, and yeah, sure, those are great too, but I think any kind of life with you is perfect enough for me.”

“But don’t you...regret... _things_ ?” _if you just didn’t have me, you would have been so much happier._

“Of course I do. I regret _a lot_ of things.” Nayeon snorts. “But having you is _never_ part of that long list. Having you is the one decision in my life I’m never going to regret.” 

***

**April 26th**

This entire day is spent dragging their bodies around with 5% battery. 

They order take outs for meals and spend their hours lounging in their newly-arranged living room, Chaeyoung’s head resting on her mother’s lap and Nayeon focused on shoving her spoon down a gallon of vanilla strawberry ice cream instead of the movie they’re supposed to be watching, feeding herself and her daughter all while making sure nothing stains their newly-vacuumed couch. 

This time, it’s Mina and Dahyun who drop by for dinner, bringing along with them expensive pizza and steak takeouts. They eat it in the dining area because Mina insists so and Nayeon and Chaeyoung can’t have Dahyun staining _any_ of their newly-cleaned furniture. 

The couple stay long enough to witness Chaeyoung’s sudden burst of ideas (of course, with Dahyun playing key help in coming up with it).

Mom, I’m going to set you up with someone!”

Even Mina is rendered still, frozen in her steps towards the kitchen sink. She spares her wife behind Chaeyoung a questioning look but is only given a cheeky smile and a cunning shrug of her shoulders in return. 

“And who would you set me up with? I gotta have a heads up so I can prepare.” Nayeon, despite her own surprise–she’s in the middle of wiping the table clean with the rag–indulges her daughter and her best friend’s collaborated plan. 

Chaeyoung didn’t expect her mother to relent so easily. “So you’re _really_ considering it? Going out and dating again?” 

To be frank, Nayeon never really _not_ considered it. Even if she purposely chose not to date again, there were always a few people here and there trying their luck with her. Chaeyoung even had to encounter and suffer meeting Nayeon’s past colleague and one of her _many_ suitors standing on their doorstep. Point is, whether Nayeon considers dating again or not, the power will never be hers to begin with. People come and go at her. _That’s just how in-demand your mom is, kid._

“If it’s okay with you then why not?” Nayeon chuckles lightheartedly, finishing up with the table and passing in front of Chaeyoung and Dahyun with a pat on their heads. “As long as you’re cool with it, let’s give it a shot.” 

***

**April 27th**

Nayeon and Chaeyoung decide to brave the outside world for the first time since Chaeyoung’s eventful birthday. They end up visiting Sana and Momo’s house but only get to see the aforementioned. Momo is out again, doing organizing rounds for the upcoming party tomorrow, and Tzuyu is at school. 

It’s on this day Nayeon finds out about the party she’s apparently invited to and required to show up at. She thinks this is all according to Chaeyoung’s plan to set her up. When Sana sneaks to borrow her daughter for a few minutes, under the pretense of _girl talk_ , Nayeon’s assumptions are confirmed. 

Sana’s in it too. Everyone is. 

Nayeon just _prays_ she won’t regret anything.

***

The morning of _the_ big party comes along with the sunlight that spills into the spaces of Nayeon’s sheer curtains, effectively shining down on her face like a damned spotlight and waking her up. 

Nayeon spends a minute lying still on her side, basking in the warmth of the splendid morning sun, until the events of the past few days rain down on her hazy, sleep-engulfed mind, flooding her senses awake with a fearful nudge. Everything feels all too enchanted and surreal, her clouded mind is finding it easier to convince herself everything’s just the consequence of her lack of sleep and fatigue.

_Is it all just a dream?_

Nayeon gets her answer when she turns on her bed and her sleep-laced eyes land on a figure cocooned in her bunny-print blanket, hogging the entire thing all to herself. 

A smile finds its way tugging at Nayeon’s lips. _My Chaeyoungie…_

If there is one thing Nayeon is sure she can do for the rest of her life and never complain about, it’s spending every waking day with her daughter. 

Chaeyoung sleeps with Nayeon’s blanket wrapped around her entire body, covering her face from the world but her toes peeking out and left to freeze in the open. Nayeon can’t help but let a small chuckle roll out her lips. This is exactly how Chaeyoung sleeps even when she was just a baby. 

Nayeon’s always found it bizarre how someone could sleep so soundly with their feet uncovered. As a kid, she grew up thinking there were _monsters_ under her bed just waiting to drag her away and kidnap her. Even in the warmest of temperatures or the availability of the smallest blankets, Nayeon _never_ leaves her toes out and unprotected when she sleeps. 

With Chaeyoung, it’s always been different. 

In all the unnoticeable and ostentatious ways possible, Chaeyoung is just like Nayeon and so much unlike her at the same time. 

When Chaeyoung was a baby up until she was a toddler, Nayeon would buy her all kinds of ballerina tutus and sunday dresses of variegated colors (Mina’s influence), and Chaeyoung would suddenly be into aviator helmets and goggles (brought on by nights of Pororo marathons). Chaeyoung would wish for a Snow White doll but Nayeon would end up with a Bugs Bunny stuffed toy for her Christmas gift. Nayeon would buy her a special baseball cap that had a sparkling glow-in-the-dark design in front, Chaeyoung would only wear it in daylight, _backwards_. 

A lot of times, Nayeon would question if Chaeyoung truly is _her_ child. She had a better relationship with their old pet goldfish than she had with her own daughter. 

The only firm truth that pulls her back to the ground of reality is the memory of Chaeyoung’s birth. If she thinks of it enough, Nayeon can still feel the labor pains lingering. When she remembers the torment she had gone through and the joy that followed afterwards, she looks back at Chaeyoung again and realizes her unmistakably _weird_ dynamic with her daughter is what completes the puzzle, Chaeyoung is her missing piece.

(At the back of Nayeon’s mind lies an answer she dares _not_ to say. It’s preposterous to justify with and probably impossible.

But when Chaeyoung argues with Nayeon in her little high-pitched voice, throws away the ballerina tutus for goggles that are half the size of her head, and wears Nayeon’s favorite soccer team hoodie instead of her Disney Princess jacket, Nayeon knows _exactly_ who Chaeyoung takes up after. If she were here, everything would have been easier. 

A lot of times Nayeon would wonder if Chaeyoung truly is _her_ child. She takes up after Jeongyeon more than anybody else.)

_Sarangeul haetta uriga manna ♫♪_

The familiar sound of Nayeon’s ringtone slashes through the tranquil stillness of the room, breaking Nayeon’s train of thoughts. In front of her, Chaeyoung stirs underneath the covers, groaning in the process before pulling the sheet down to shoot her mother a sleepy frown. 

“Mom, seriously?” It takes a while before Chaeyoung gets to rub away the traces of sleep gluing her eyelids shut. In place of it is an airy giggle of amusement at her mother’s choice of ringtone. “Are you into boy bands now?” 

Nayeon turns to lie on her back before fumbling with an awkwardly outstretched arm for her ringing phone somewhere on the nightstand beside her. Without even checking the caller I.D., she answers with a singsong voice, “Hellooo?”

 _“Are you two seriously still in bed?”_ Jihyo’s voice is recognizable even through the noise in her background, of talking people and the distant sound of office white noise. _“Get ready. I just filed a leave. I’m picking you up.”_

Beside Nayeon, Chaeyoung is already sitting up on the bed, resting her side against the headboard. She looks at her mother with tired, puffy eyes and a small pinch between her brows. _Who is it?_ She mouths. 

Jihyo’s in the middle of talking about having brunch at Mina and Dahyun’s new place when Nayeon unceremoniously puts her on speaker to answer her daughter’s question.

_“Is Chaeyoung awake now?”_

Chaeyoung moves to sit closer to her mom, resting her head on Nayeon’s shoulder. With a drowsy smile, she chuckles,“I am, aunt Jihyo. Good morning.” 

Nayeon rests her head against her daughter’s. “We just got up. Our beauty sleep was cut short because of your call.” 

_“Good morning, sweetie~”_ Jihyo coos at Chaeyoung as if she was speaking to a baby and not a 19-year-old. _“Nayeon, it’s already ten in the morning. You don’t need your beauty sleep anymore. Get your ass ready.”_

Chaeyoung laughs at the scheduled morning bickering of her aunt and mother. “Can I come too? I don’t have anything to do around here.” 

_“Sure you can, baby.”_ Jihyo’s voice does a 180-degree change whenever it’s her goddaughter at the end of the line. With Nayeon, she’s almost always ready to smack her head off in the friendliest possible way. With Chaeyoung, it’s always like she’s talking to a newborn child, ready to battle anyone who _dares_ lay a harsh finger on her. 

_“I’m about to drive already”_ , Jihyo announces, behind her the telltale clunk of the car door closing resounds. _“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes tops. Im Nayeon, you better start moving your old ass. Chaeyoungie, baby, you get ready too.”_

Nayeon doesn’t complain about the contrasting treatment. This is how things work for them. Jihyo is all twenty-one types of best friends compiled into one, bundled together to fit every nook and cranny of her160 cm height. To Chaeyoung, Jihyo is the mother Nayeon never got to be. It isn’t a _perfect_ set-up but it’s what Nayeon has, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“ _I’m hanging up now. See you there.”_ The line ends with Jihyo’s _mwah_ (which Nayeon gags at and Chaeyoung simply laughs) and the room is rendered still and silent once again. 

Chaeyoung doesn’t lift her head up on her mother’s shoulder and it’s tempting Nayeon to just pull her daughter down on the bed again and probably sleep for another round, but her phone dings with a notification and on her screen reads Jihyo’s prophetic instincts in text.

**_Don’t sleep for another round. I’m on my way._ **

“Well. There goes our sleep.” Nayeon sighs in defeat, throwing her phone haphazardly near the end of the bed. 

She pats Chaeyoung’s cheek softly and waits for her daughter to remove her head on her shoulder but nothing comes. Instead, Chaeyoung hugs her mother’s arm tighter, snuggles closer, and lets out a whine. “Don’t goooo...” 

Nayeon stills, an involuntary reaction whenever she’s placed at the receiving end of skinship. The last time Chaeyoung was _this_ affectionate towards her, her daughter was still a toddler. Even then, the action was only guaranteed hardly ever, only when the stars aligned and the duo would get along and understand each other. For Chaeyoung to hug her close like this, to ask her not to go, Nayeon feels stunned and overwhelmed, and there’s a tidal wave of emotions filling her chest, knocking her dumbfounded.

In the end, Nayeon relents and she cuddles Chaeyoung for a few more minutes until the unsettling fear in her stomach surges at the thought of Jihyo’s arrival and their impending series of nagging from the woman when she sees the mother and daughter duo are yet to get ready for their _eventful_ day. 

“Sweetie, we have to get ready. Your aunt Jihyo’s going to cut our heads off if she sees us still in bed.” Nayeon tries to shake Chaeyoung’s arms off but to no avail. She uses her last card. “If she decapitates us, you won’t get to set me up on a date anymore—” 

“NO!” Chaeyoung jumps away almost immediately, nearly falling over the edge of the bed in the process. “Okay! Come on! Let’s get ready!” She’s suddenly brimming with energy too overwhelming for Nayeon to keep up with. 

Nayeon lets herself get dragged on her feet and pushed down to sit on the edge of her bed, struck by the sudden spring in her daughter’s steps as Chaeyoung heads inside her mother’s walk-in closet and begins going through Nayeon’s mountain of clothes. 

When Chaeyoung walks out eons later, Nayeon is already lying on her bed again, splayed like a starfish. Had she known being a spectator was _this_ boring, she wouldn’t have made Chaeyoung stay and watch through her many, _many_ trying-on montages before. 

She sits back up with a huff at her daughter’s fake coughing. What she’s greeted with ultimately shakes any remnant of sleep in her system.

Nayeon _gawks_ at the clothes Chaeyoung holds up. “You want me to wear _that?_ To a brunch with your aunts?” _In a gathering with a bunch of ladies in their late thirties?_

Chaeyoung proudly smiles at her well-coordinated Adidas crop top and sweatpants arrangement, placing them down on the edge of the bed beside her mother. “Why not? Who knows? We might run into my future other mother on our way there.” 

“Chaeyoung, honey, what the _hell_ are you talking about?” 

“Mom, just wear this.” Chaeyoung presses with finality in her tone. She plays her cards well. She knows her mother can never outright say _no_ to her. “You’ll be _smoking hot_ in those.” 

Nayeon, as expected, doesn’t say _no_. Instead, she only lets out a defeated sigh and walks over to grab her towel hanging on the rack behind the door. Chaeyoung’s towel is also there. She hands it over to her daughter standing by the door. 

“You should take a shower and get ready too. We don’t want to be the receiving end of your aunt’s menopausal mood swings.” 

“MOM!”

Nayeon only ends up cackling, walking away to her bathroom. 

***

Chaeyoung sees her phone for the first time that morning. It’s glorifying, sunlight shining down on it resting on her nightstand like a spotlight from the heavens, a gift from the angels above. 

She runs to grab it as if someone would take it away, plopping down on her bed with a huff when her stomach lands on the soft cushions rather forcefully, knocking the breath out of her. 

The device is fully charged, probably courtesy of her mother, and the lockscreen is flooded with messages and notifications ranging from Yerim’s string of _I MISS U BITCH!!_ and many other more messages displaying an extensive collection of punctuation marks and emojis, to the twenty other Fortnite notifications telling her it’s done downloading every other second, judging from the time stamps. 

Chaeyoung makes a mental note to check on her best friend later, probably tell her she’s _not_ dead and she’s just taking some time off school, before unlocking her phone and swiftly going to her message inbox, hoping to see a new phone number appear somewhere there, her aunt Sana’s way of helping her out. 

Chaeyoung is equal parts excited and terrified of the plan she had thoroughly formulated with the help of her aunt Sana and Tzuyu. The very same game plan had just begun manifesting itself today, kicking off at the exact moment Chaeyoung had introduced the idea of dating again to her mother. 

The next part is more complex and one of the most crucial, and as Chaeyoung continues to scroll down what feels like a gazillion of messages from her network provider and other unwanted app notifications, she feels her heart beat more forcefully against her ribcage. All the reasons _not_ to pursue this plan pile up in her head like badly stacked jenga blocks, and a nanosecond of doubt flashes in front of her, blinding and tempting her to stop looking for her aunt Sana’s promised forwarded number and just turn off her phone and hope for the best. 

But then Chaeyoung hears the sound of her mother’s laughter again–cackling with its shrill, witch-like sound; the perfect background music to a child’s nightmare to be honest–and remembers her wide smile and how she likes slapping anyone within her arm’s reach, too engulfed in the moment’s jovial atmosphere, and it all tells Chaeyoung that exact point in time only happens hardly ever in _this_ life; 

The last time Chaeyoung remembers ever seeing it was twenty years in the past, in one of their lighter practices, where Dahyun would be running around the room with Jeongyeon chasing behind her; her aunt Jihyo would probably look like she’s about to tear her hair out shouting at the two; her aunts Momo and Sana would be talking in hushed whispers and giggling at the far corner, engrossed in their own lovey dovey world; Chaeyoung would be probably be sitting with her aunt Mina, who would probably be smiling at the direction of the running pair and, in retrospect–if Chaeyoung only looked _closer_ –would probably be giggling at the specific direction of a certain sunshine-haired girl; and her mother, in all the glory of her strict choreographer mode, would be standing at the other end of the room, laughing beside her aunt Jihyo, enjoying the once in a blue moon moment where everything is happy and they’re together in their own universe. 

If the universe gave Chaeyoung an option to relive one exact moment, she’d want that day to happen all over again, for the rest of her life if she can. For that to happen, everything needs to work out now. Chaeyoung will _make sure_ it does.

Fortunately, sitting almost in the middle section of the inbox, Chaeyoung _finally_ finds an unknown number, its most recent message flashing with a string of all the heart emojis available as well as a myriad of smiley ones, ending with a simple **_~ auntie satang_ ** **_♥_ **

Chaeyoung quickly opens the message and finds what she’s looking for. She saves her aunt Sana’s number before switching to the Kakao app and trying her luck. If this works in the first try, Chaeyoung is readily convinced she’s the universe’s favorite. 

Of course, it doesn’t work.

But that’s okay. Chaeyoung tries and tries, because there’s no warning sign from the app saying the message didn’t go through, that the ID is no longer available. _So maybe she is getting it. She just might be busy at the moment…_

Chaeyoung floods the chat box and doesn’t stop. She messages before she hops into the shower and even after a quick wash, stepping out with her body wrapped around in a towel held together by one hand while the other is carefully holding the device. 

_This has to work._

She changes into black joggers and a sheet white button-up in a flash–the fastest she’s ever moved–and quickly grabs the phone again, checking if a reply has finally arrived. 

There are none. 

_This has to work._

Chaeyoung continues to wait and message. She doesn’t let her eyes gaze away from the screen for more than a second, prompting even her aunt Jihyo to hold her close on their walk to her car waiting for them outside. _Please work._

**_Katalk katalk_ **

Chaeyoung almost drops her phone on the car’s floor mat. 

***

(Aunt Sana carefully explained yesterday what’s about to happen. 

The old school had sent out invites to the alumni and had asked past talent show winners to perform or be part of the judges’ panel for this year’s founding day talent competition. Albeit trivial in nature, the invite became the ropes that would unknowingly pull the group together again.

Initially, both her aunt Sana and aunt Momo didn’t agree to anything besides showing up at the celebration, simply because there was no point in performing or being part of the judges’ panel. They were incomplete to begin with–unable to perform a choreography made for eight people, danced by seven, all in their prime high school years–and they weren’t experienced enough to be part of the panel. The Japanese multi-millionaire couple offered to host an after-party instead. 

A few days following that, her aunts find out about her aunt Mina and _aunt_ Dahyun returning. 

At the thought of all of them slowly coming back and reuniting, as if the stars have suddenly aligned and everything felt _too good to be true,_ Chaeyoung couldn't help but ask about a certain one person missing out. 

“I don’t think she will be able to come, Chaeyoungie.” Aunt Sana frowned that time, looked dejected. 

Chaeyoung still thinks there’s hope for anything to happen. “Did she get an invite?” 

“As far as I know, everyone did. But she’s just too far away, sweetie.” 

“Aunt Mina was able to come back with Dahyunnie–I mean, _aunt_ Dahyun. Maybe Jeongyeon–I mean _, aunt Jeongyeon_ –can come back too.” 

It was a sliver of hope, a small, thin, and narrow possibility, but it was _hope_ nonetheless. The universe allowed them to reunite again. Maybe it’ll be kind enough to make them complete too. 

Either way it’s okay. Chaeyoung will gladly make it happen. Aunt Sana wants to help too. 

“She probably changed her ID but I’ll try to look for the one I had saved in my phone and then I’ll send it to you.”

Chaeyoung wanted to ask what she’ll do with that but the answer was pretty much there. _Probably tell her who you are? Try to convince her to accept the invite. Tell her about your mom._

“Will that make her come back?” 

“It’s worth trying, right?” Aunt Sana smiled then, and pulled Chaeyoung into a hug again, just to make sure it was _really_ her. “You know, your _aunt Jeongyeon_ , she could never say no to your mom.”

Chaeyoung remembers pulling away from her aunt Sana’s hug and looking at her with an almost unnoticeable frown, head slightly tilted to the side. “Then why did she never come see us? Come see mom?” _Come see me?_

“Aww, sweetie…” Aunt Sana’s smile faded there. “What makes you say she never did?” 

That was enough to spark the determination in Chaeyoung’s system. She _has_ to get her Jeongyeon _unnie_ back.)

***

“Are you trying to drive us off the road or something?” 

Nayeon can’t help but let out a low grumble, tightly gripping the overhead handle while Jihyo navigates her Cadillac down a bumpy driveway leading to Mina and Dahyun's _exotic_ house.

"Chaeyoung, is your seatbelt on?" Jihyo glances at her goddaughter from the rearview mirror and sees the girl too busy frowning down at something on her phone and sulking like a defeated child. 

"Sweetie—"

"JIHYO, TREE!"

Jihyo immediately turns ahead and yanks the steering wheel to the side, her gigantic car swerving soon after, avoiding the tree trunk by a hair strand. 

In a cluster of panic and erratic hearts, Jihyo foots down on the breaks and stops the car first, just to get their breathings back again. 

"Is my side mirror still there?" Jihyo frets, clutching at her Adidas shirt for her heart. There's a buzzing in her ears and also a headache-inducing pressure that whatever rattling noise able to confirm to Jihyo that she had just, indeed, crashed her side mirror wouldn't be able to penetrate. All she could hear earlier was Nayeon's complaining ringing in her ears. 

Thankfully, Jihyo's side mirror is still attached to the car.

"Aren't we here already?" Nayeon groans, leaning her head on the window with a thud. She sets her fiery glare at the GPS system set up on the touch-screen stereo, harshly tapping on the refresh button. "Is this thing even working?!" 

"Dude! Don't break it!" Jihyo swats her best friend's hand away. She should have known better than to allow Nayeon shotgun. Chaeyoung would have been a better, more useful assistant. "It said we arrived like, ten minutes ago." 

"I don't see any house here, Park Jihyo. Let alone a roof!" 

"The address is probably for the entire residence itself." Chaeyoung quips from the back, interjecting her mother and aunt's building-up bickering. "We did arrive here ten minutes ago. We just can't find the house with all these trees."

"I can't believe it." Nayeon slumps down her seat with a drawn-out breath. _Mina really bought a property big enough to need its own GPS system inside._ "Dahyun really scored it big this time, huh?"

 _She really did._ Chaeyoung can't help but to let out a chuckle at the back. _Aunt Mina? Of all people? That's better than winning the lottery._

Once their nerves have calmed down after a five minute stop, Jihyo begins maneuvering the car again, down the bumpy path.

Within the hour and a half drive from Apgujeong to Seongnam, Jihyo filled in Nayeon with much needed information she acquired from her chit-chat with Mina a few nights ago, following their impromptu reunion dinner. 

Mina had long bought an empty property in the hillside outskirts of Seongnam after she and Dahyun decided to settle down there, a few minutes away from Mina’s in-laws. A house had begun construction the moment Mina signed the deed, and the couple was just waiting for their businesses and transactions in Japan to conclude before moving in and settling down. 

Jihyo’s managed to find out Mina had let Dahyun design the house despite her average-at-best architectural knowledge–with a professional and licensed world-renowned architect monitoring by the sides, of course–and everything about the house reflected the secretly _adventurous_ couple’s nature-loving and reserved personalities.

Nayeon should have known, really. _Of course_ letting Dahyun design all two and a half acres of land would eventually turn the space into a nature reserve. 

Knowing how Mina probably can’t risk _not_ having Dahyun within her vantage point, the house is probably medium-sized at best, so that she doesn’t lose sight of her wife ( _her wife_ . Nayeon still can’t wrap her mind around the idea that Mina is married now, to _Dahyun_ no less) and is still open enough for them to have their own personal spaces. 

After nearly another ten minutes of driving down the pathway, the residential roof of the Myoui-Kim _nature sanctuary_ finally comes to view, slowly revealing an expectedly _commodious_ house beneath it. 

"WE'RE HERE! THANK GOD!" Nayeon would have jumped out of her seat if only the seatbelt wasn't holding her down.

Jihyo drives arounds what looks like a large, oddly shaped pool with clear water and lily pads floating. At a closer glance, it doesn't look like a pool for recreational activities anymore. Fallen leaves float around the still water, koi fishes swimming about.

(Later on they'll find out it is _indeed_ a pool. At least, it used to be. Until Dahyun found a lost frog swimming in it before and suddenly had an idea to turn the lido into a makeshift pond the size of a mini-olympic pool. 

Of course, Mina just stood back and happily watched as her wife created a hot spring for frogs and fishes. Although the maintenance costs more than the construction itself–because there are weekly freshwater checks and the makeshift pond is thrice as big as the average size–if it's what makes Dahyun happy then Mina will gladly oblige.)

The well-ventilated house stretches to two main wings, connected together in a 90° angle, forming the shape of a rotated L. Mina and Sana stand by the front porch (or whatever part of the house that is; Nayeon can't say which. It's like an extension of the living room clearly visible from the outside, only protected by thick panels of floor-to-ceiling glass). The two wave at them with big, welcoming smiles.

Jihyo parks the Cadillac right beside Sana and Momo’s Volvo, hoping off with Nayeon and Chaeyoung in tow.

Chaeyoung runs up to hug her aunt Mina and aunt Sana, a wide smile replacing the sulky frown she sported the entire drive. (Jihyo makes a mental note to ask about that later)

"You should have told us we needed Waze inside your property!" Nayeon exclaims dramatically after side-hugging the couple. "It took us twenty minutes to find your house! What is this, a forest park?!" 

Mina’s cheeks turn red, bashfully covering her face with a hand. “I’m sorry. The driveway is still under construction. I forgot to tell you guys that.” 

“It’s okay”, Jihyo reassures, although next time she’ll be around, she’ll bring Daniel’s minivan instead. Less expensive repair risks. “Have you guys started without us? I can hear Dahyun playing the piano—”

“CHAEYOUNGIE!” 

All heads turn to the shrill voice tearing through Mother Nature’s stillness, taking in the form of one Hirai Momo sprinting down towards Chaeyoung, arms wide open and ready to engulf the young girl. 

When they meet halfway, Chaeyoung feels like she just punctured her rib at the forceful collision. It doesn’t help that her aunt Momo’s hug is excruciatingly tight, swinging her side to side, her feet not far from leaving the ground. 

“I can’t believe it’s _really_ you!” Aunt Momo cries unknowingly into Chaeyoung’s ear, making the latter wince. Thankfully, the older woman lets her go shortly after that, pushing her at arms’ length–hands on Chaeyoung’s shoulders–and looking at her from head to toe, just to make sure it really _is_ her godchild. “Is it really you?” 

“Yes, aunt Mo—"

“OH MY GOD IT IS! IT IS YOU!” And Chaeyoung is pulled back into a hug again, this time less excruciating and more...emotional. One of Aunt Momo’s hands finds itself softly stroking the back of Chaeyoung’s head, the other is wrapped around her shoulders, holding her close. 

Behind Momo’s back, Chaeyoung catches a glimpse of the fond smiles on her other aunts and mother’s faces. Dahyun– _aunt_ Dahyun–emerges from the living space and stands beside her aunt Mina, stifling back a laugh at Sana’s _she was sulky the entire night because I got to see Chaeyoung and she couldn’t_ comment, pertaining to her wife still clinging at Chaeyoung as if for dear life. 

“How did you guys get here so fast?” Jihyo asks, turning to Sana who stands with her arms crossed over her chest, covering the Balenciaga logo on her cotton tee, looking affectionately over at her wife and her goddaughter. 

“We left as soon as we dropped Tzuyu at a morning practice with her team.” Sana answers with a smile, “We’ll be picking her up after too, that's why we should probably get a headstart at breakfast already. If we have time, we can start discussing things.”

The last bit immediately has Nayeon frowning shortly after, perplexed gaze drifting towards her friends who–she failed to notice–are also clad in athleisure attires. _Wait a minute…_

“Discussing what? I thought we were just having brunch?” 

Nayeon has half the mind to stop Momo from dragging her child inside the house with Dahyun in tow, afraid of the consequences of leaving her daughter with her two most chaotic aunts, but her headspace is only capable of holding so much, and right now, the confusion is taking up more of her attention.

“Oh, didn’t Chaeyoungie tell you?” Sana asks, craning her neck to look for her godchild who is now nowhere to be seen. Sana chuckles. Momo and Dahyun have successfully kidnapped the poor kid. 

The high-spirited woman turns back to her frowning best friend and reassures her with enough elation that no, this is not going to be bad news. This is going to be the best one yet. 

Sana announces with a great deal of volume and animated hand flailing, “We’re getting the gang back together!” 

***

Chaeyoung is whisked away by her overly-ecstatic aunt Momo inside the house–which isn’t really _inside_ because aunt Mina’s house is literally open and connected to the outside world–and there they begin talking in hushed squeals about _the plan._

“How did it go?” Dahyun asks in anticipation, nearly sliding on top of the brick kitchen island in between them with how far she’s trying to reach just to listen to what Chaeyoung has to say. 

Chaeyoung has half the mind to laugh at the girl and just scoff because _bro, you can just stand here beside me you know?_ but then she remembers Dahyun is more than a decade older than her and it might not be appropriate to refer to her as just _bro_ now. 

“Sana unnie told me she gave you Jeongyeon unnie’s old kakao I.D. Did she answer?”

“The message didn’t even send.” Chaeyoung’s shoulders slump at the memory of the pop-up message she received earlier, telling her the I.D. no longer existed only after _many_ attempts. 

She lets out a defeated sigh before pulling out her phone and sliding it on the counter, showing the two older women what happened with her futile attempts to reach out. Plastered on the screen, along with Chaeyoung’s flood of cringy introductory messages, were continuous flows of red x marks, indicating each message’s junked state. 

Dahyun takes the phone and squints at the device, inching closer until all that’s left in distance is a mere inch between the tip of her nose and the screen. “Did you double-check it? Maybe the I.D. is wrong?” 

“Or maybe it just doesn’t exist anymore.” 

Chaeyoung can’t help but allow the dejection to tug down at the corners of her lips. In the back of her mind, reality follows her optimism like a bad shadow, waiting for the right moment to engulf her whole. As much as she tries to stay determined and steadfast with this _plan_ of hers, every single time she’s reminded that she’s not living in 1998 anymore, that the universe isn’t as easy to navigate through as it used to be back then, something inside of her clenches and aches in looming disappointment. 

_What if I won’t be able to find her?_

“What if I was wrong being so hopeful all this time?” Chaeyoung feels her hope dwindle from an ignited flame to a small spark. She looks up at her two _aunts_ with downcast eyes, “She’s probably moved on now and mom...mom’s just going to be a part of her memories, her past.”

_What if she doesn’t want to come back?_

“Chaeyoungie…” There’s a gravity in her aunt Momo’s voice, the animated tone from earlier no longer there. It’s only confirming Chaeyoung’s most dreaded thought more: that reality has caught up behind them like a cunning snake ready to snap at its prey, and in this, it’s them; and because none of them have the slightest clue about one furtive Yoo Jeongyeon, no one _really_ has the answer to Chaeyoung’s questions, to her fears. 

(Chaeyoung realizes this: All this time, she’s really just walking towards the edge of the cliff with her eyes closed, knowing the fall that awaits her, but still hoping for that divine intervention that once came and made her travel back in time.

If she closes her eyes from the actuality, from the snap of reality, and just continues to walk on, it could possibly come back for her once more, grant her wish one last time and reunite two lost souls in love. 

However greedy it may seem, Chaeyoung still closes her eyes and walks to the edge of the cliff. 

Other people call it blind optimism. She thinks it’s hope. 

_Hope for her divine intervention. Hope for a happy ending.)_

There’s a hand of assurance softly resting on Chaeyoung’s back. She sits in heavy contemplating silence with her aunt Momo, dwelling in their thoughts while away from them, Dahyun looks close to breaking Chaeyoung’s phone with her aggressive tapping. 

Dahyun alternates between the battered iPhone SE and her own iPhone X. When the double-checking proves nothing, the older woman calls the shots for the last resort. 

“I’m not really sure if this will work but if I’m not mistaken, didn’t Jennie unnie mention she had everyone in the batch’s contact details? Why don’t we ask her if she has Jeongyeon unnie’s?” 

Chaeyoung should have known. 

Kim Dahyun is her divine intervention. 

“I mean, she managed to find me and Mina. How hard could Jeongyeon unnie be?” The _sunshine girl_ nods, begins scrolling through her phone’s contact list. “She’s pulled a lot of strings to get in contact with the other alumni. We’re just going to ask if she has any intel on Jeongyeon unnie.” 

She lands on one _Jennie Kim_ in her contacts and immediately presses the call button with no hesitation, puting the phone on speaker.

With every ring that reverberates around the intense room, Chaeyoung can feel her heart pulsate in anticipation and _hope;_ with every dulling silence in between, she can feel her heart drop a little bit more. 

The end of the ring time looms near, Chaeyoung can feel it. It’s only then, perhaps one last ring before they get transferred to voicemail, when they get the answer. 

“Jennie Kim speaking. Dahyun-ssi?” 

The three girls end up collectively sighing in relief.

“Good morning, unnie! I’m with Momo unnie and Chaeyoung, Nayeon unnie’s baby girl.” Dahyun greets, smiling effervescently inside and outside of her speaking tone, sticking her tongue out when Chaeyoung playfully rolls her eyes at the endearment. “I was just calling to ask if you have Jeongyeon unnie’s contact number? You invited everyone in your year, right?” 

There are distant bustling noises on the other end of the line, of people talking and moving around. It’s a little past eleven in the morning but everyone knows–and even Chaeyoung can tell–Jennie Kim is a busy bee, most especially now that she’s the head organizer for the school event. 

“Jeongyeon?” Jennie repeats, raising her tone over the noise around her. “I don’t have her number!”

It must be so crowded at her end of the call that she has to shout it out loud and pierce through the anticipating silence in Dahyun’s kitchen, rendering the three in their own low, disheartened _Oh_. It feels like a giant wave washed over to their shores, wrecking their sandcastles even after they build it as far away from ruination as it could be. 

Before Dahyun can even end the call with a _thank you_ , Jennie excuses herself for a while to talk– _shout_ –at someone on her end, voice doubling in volume even though she tries to put the phone away, and returns to speak in a saccharine, soft tone, as if she hadn’t just bellowed out at someone, “But I did invite her though. I can give you her sister’s number if you want.” 

And just like that, their sandcastles begin building again. 

“Yes! Yes, I’d _love_ that, unnie! Thank you _so_ much!” Dahyun doesn’t contain her glee, even when her tone rises up in levels like a rollercoaster. Momo and Chaeyoung are suppressing their urges to do a victory dance then and there. 

Jennie lets out an elegant giggle. “Okay. I’ll forward it to you. It’s Seungyeon unnie, by the way.”

“Noted!” Dahyun chirps. “Thank you again _so, so_ much, unnie. See you tonight at the party!” 

Jennie hangs up after that, ending the call with a sweet, “Okay! See you guys too!”

When the call is finished, the three women end up blinking at each other for a few seconds, trying to let the moment register in their minds. Within a minute, Dahyun’s phone chimes, breaking their stupefied silence. 

“It’s here.” Dahyun announces, showing the series of numbers in the message bubble on her screen. She gulps down a boulder in her throat. They all stare at the number like it’s a destructive bomb that’ll annihilate all known existence in one press.

For Chaeyoung, it feels exactly like that but in a weird, positive way. It’s a destructive bomb designed to remove the barriers of the past, the ropes that hold them back. It’s a chance for a new start. 

“Do we call it now?” 

Chaeyoung doesn’t spare hesitation a single second. “Let’s do this.” 

Something about the situation gives Chaeyoung a certain amount of complacency, whatever the result is. Somehow, everything is going to be okay in the end. It _feels_ like it’s going to be okay in the end. Because everything is much easier to accomplish now, because Chaeyoung doesn’t hold the gravity of her undertakings all on her own unlike when she traveled back to 1998 and only _she_ had an idea what was going on. 

Everything is much easier now than it was before. Because she knows she’s not doing it on her own. Because she’s got all of her aunts with her now, and _her bro._ And whatever happens in the end, it will be okay. 

Chaeyoung takes her shot at the universe again.

***

Nayeon should have seen this coming, really. Of course it’s Sana who first suggests getting the gang back together. It’s the perfect time for it, after all. It’s been nearly twenty years and the school sent out invites for a reunion tonight after the talent festivities later–all the _perfect_ excuse.

Besides, Yoo Jeongyeon’s absence is practically screaming at them. They’re six out of seven now, and missing _one_ person is more obvious than missing most. 

It’s practically amusing how Nayeon saw this coming but blinded herself with the impossibility of it. She remembers telling herself once she'd wait for the girl, and then telling herself a million other times after that to stop hoping for a miracle to come. 

Because a week without Jeongyeon turns into a month, and thirty days become a year, until Chaeyoung is already growing up before her very eyes, and she no longer believes in things she can't feel and see. And when Nayeon attempts to tell the little child her other mommy is going to come home soon, come see them soon, Chaeyoung doesn't believe in it anymore. Because she doesn't believe in the existence of someone she can't feel.

Nayeon, little by little, starts believing the same.

_Maybe they are right. She won't come back after all._

Of course, that only proves to be partially true because, as vast as the world is, a hundred years is too long for someone to possibly avoid another person. Not that Nayeon ever found herself avoiding Jeongyeon. It was always like a moth to a flame when it came to them. The universe just seemed like it was in a constant mission to separate the two of them.

Nayeon saw this coming. The one day the heavens will yield. Because however vast and wide the world is, it will never be enough to keep her away from Yoo Jeongyeon. 

***

_"Did you arrive already? I told you to just message your number, dimwit!"_

Chaeyoung's never met Jeongyeon's older sister or any of her family members but something about the greeting tells her just exactly how alike Jeongyeon is with her sister. _So the hyped up energy_ does _run in the family..._

"Unnie? It's Kim Dahyun…" Dahyun expected _a lot_ of things from one Yoo Seungyeon, but she never expected the normally sophisticated and quirky older woman to open the call with _that._

There are noises of a children's show playing in the distant background, followed by a clanging sound none of them are able to make out. 

_"Oh?! Dahyunnie!?"_ The excitement in the older Yoo's voice turns up a notch. _"Our Dahyunnie?!"_

Chaeyoung notices the bite in her tone is replaced by something affectionate and soft at Dahyun's introduction. At this point, she isn’t even going to be surprised anymore if the entire Yoo family adopted Dahyun. 

"Yes, unnie", Dahyun sheepishly affirms, hopelessly hiding away the flush in her cheeks with a glance at the other girls already walking inside. "I got your number from Jennie unnie. I just wanted to ask for Jeongyeon unnie's contact? We can't get a hold of her."

_"Oh? I don't have her number either, Dubu. I'm sorry."_

The smile on Momo, Chaeyoung, and Dahyun's faces immediately tug down. 

_"She bought a new card before leaving for her flight. I was expecting her call, that's why I thought it was her when I picked up."_

The expressions on their faces are ultimately contorting into something else entirely. A furrow of their brows. A tilt of their heads. Two pursed lips and one cheeky, triumphant smile. 

"She…" Dahyun can't stifle back the squeal in her voice. "She’s already here?"

_“I’m not sure if she’s arrived already but she left for her flight last night.”_

Chaeyoung can’t make out any other detail from the conversation. Her mind is too wrapped up trying to register the idea that _her_ Jeongyeon unnie is back in Korea, breathing the same polluted summer day air as her, trudging the same pavements and seeing the same view.

Chaeyoung’s mind is doing somersaults and her heart is being ripped apart and pieced back together again in ten other ways with what she’s taking in. Korea isn’t big enough to _not_ be able to find Jeongyeon. 

“— _got the invite too but I don’t know if she’s coming though…”_

By the time Chaeyoung comes back down from her stupor, Dahyun already has whipped out a notepad from one of the island drawers, and Momo is holding a pen diligently, ready to jot down whatever information Dahyun tells her to take note of. 

Chaeyoung takes a peek at the paper and reads the words written down in her aunt Momo’s idiosyncratic penmanship. _SHE’S HERE! SHE’S HEREEE!! SHE’S BAAAAACK!!_

Chaeyoung snorts because _same._

“Where is she staying at, unnie?” Dahyun asks the important question. “Minari and I want to see her before the party, if that’s okay.” 

“ _She didn’t mention anything specifically to me but I got a confirmation email yesterday about a booked suite at the Banyan Tree Club.”_ Another noise emerges, this time it’s a bunch of babbling sounds coming from, what Chaeyoung guesses, a baby. “ _I’m guessing she’s staying there?”_

Chaeyoung racks her mind for a Banyan Tree Club. It sounds like a nature reserve _again_ and frankly, she isn’t ready to have her aunt Jihyo drive them off the road once more just like earlier. 

“Okay! Noted, unnie! Thank you _sooo_ much! You’re a lifesaver!” Dahyun exclaims into the phone, earning a soft, affection-laced laugh from the older Yoo and the two other girls overhearing the call. 

“ _No problem, kid. We missed you already here! Last time I saw you in the flesh, it was at my wedding and that was what, ten years ago?”_

“How old is Liam now?” 

_“He’s turning ten this year.”_

Dahyun chuckles. “Then there you go, unnie. It’s been _almost_ ten years.”

“ _Come visit us when you can, okay?”_ Chaeyoung loves the fondness in the tone of the older Yoo sister. It shows her just how much a lot of people love Dahyun. A lot of people love her _bro_ too. “ _I’ll be hanging up now. It’s seven in the morning here and I still have to drive Liam to school.”_

“Okay. Drive safe, unnie! Thank you so much!” Dahyun’s smile spreads from ear to ear, and her eyes gleam with a newfound hope. 

When she hangs up the call, there’s a pause in the room–lasting a second or two–before the three girls find themselves celebrating the moment, bouncing up and down and Dahyun doing a victory moonwalk around the kitchen. 

“I can’t believe it!” Chaeyoung squeaks in the excruciating hug her aunt Momo manages to sneak again. “It’s _actually_ happening! She’s _actually_ here!” 

“Who’s here?” 

A voice interrupts their victorious celebration. Momo doesn’t pull away from her squeezing the life out of Chaeyoung, who sees over her aunt Momo’s shoulders her mother emerging from the threshold of the glass door along with her aunts. 

Dahyun absentmindedly continues moonwalking around the kitchen, eyes closed and _feeling it_ really badly. 

“Are we expecting someone else?” Nayeon turns to her other friends who sport fond smiles looking at the scene before them. 

“I don’t think so?” Mina trails off, and then sees her wife moonwalking in the kitchen. She clears her throat, enough to catch Dahyun’s attention. She immediately stops moonwalking. “How about we eat brunch already? The food’s going to get cold.” 

They all agree in unison, heading over to the beautiful three-walled open area that is Mina and Dahyun’s dining room–which is, not surprisingly, still connected to the living room and the outside space. 

***

In between the continental breakfast buffet, they talk about everything and anything, and it’s amusing how one person can speak on behalf of the other now. Back then it was them on their own, but now it was Mina and Dahyun, Sana and Momo, Nayeon and Jihyo, and then there was Chaeyoung too, who just watched and enjoyed overhearing stories she _secretly_ witnessed and some, she never got to be part of. 

Momo gushes all about Tzuyu and how it felt like _heaven_ every single time she and Sana realized Tzuyu really _is_ their daughter. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t their blood or that she held a surname that wasn’t Hirai-Minatozaki. Even though they adopted Tzuyu when she was nine and only got to be a part of her life for less than what many would deem _acceptable_ , Momo and Sana love their daughter _every bit_ _and more_. Momo finishes what felt like an endless stream of flowery words for Tzuyu with a showcase of her baby pictures, a few Chaeyoung recognizes as the ones elegantly framed and hanging around their house in proud display. 

Dahyun talks about how she’s been playing the piano for a while now, practicing her favorite songs and playing personally for Mina’s recitals whenever she can, which is a lot more often than she did before, considering now that she mentioned she’s still recovering from an ankle injury. When Nayeon asks worriedly what happened, Mina tells everyone flatly it’s because her wife had tripped over the floor buffer’s plug at the airport on their way to Korea. Dahyun mentions how Mina was ready to sue the entire airport for premise liability, to which she easily talked her powerful wife out of. 

Jihyo and Nayeon tell them all about the mundanity of their ordinary, white-collar lives. 

It’s not much, they clarify, but everyone else still listens and laughs along the funny parts even when it’s not as grand tomfoolery as Sana and Momo’s parenting adventures (they once accidentally left Tzuyu at the mall when they were going grocery shopping; when they returned to get her, Tzuyu was already riding the subway back. They reunited in front of their house) or Mina and Dahyun’s humorously lavish lifestyle (Dahyun once wanted to play hide and seek in Mina’s office back when she was still working in her parents’ company. Since it was impossible to play with only the two of them, Mina had the entire building join in and made everyone play one giant, chaotic hide and seek game).

On the other hand, after much internal deliberation, Chaeyoung’s finally mustered the courage to ask Dahyun if she’s okay with being referred to as _unnie_ instead of aunt because their ages aren’t that far off compared to the others. She goes under the excuse that Dahyun reminds her of a long lost _unnie_ . Dahyun doesn’t have a single bone to disagree with. She tells Chaeyoung it’s an _honor_ , because Chaeyoung reminds her of a long lost _bro_ too. 

Nayeon, of course, feels _completely_ insulted. “Are you saying the rest of us are too old to be your unnies too!? Your _bros_!?” 

And Chaeyoung is absolutely _lost_ and looks like every _???_ meme because, “You’re my mother? I don’t think it’s appropriate to refer to you as unnie? Or bro, much less?” 

Thankfully, Dahyun doesn’t even hesitate before pushing back her chair and reaching over the table with her hand stretched out, ready for a ratifying bro-fist (followed by their version of a secret handshake). 

“Bro!”

Chaeyoung stifles back a laugh and reaches for the hand waiting. “Bro!”

They seal it with a bro-fist. Everyone around the table just laughs. 

***

Brunch ends on a lighter note, with Sana and Momo bidding their farewells first because they have to pass by Tzuyu’s school to pick her up. Everyone walks them out to their Volvo. 

“We still have to prepare for the party tonight!” Sana squeals in obvious delight, contrary to the initial reaction every other average person would have at the thought of such a tedious task. “We originally planned on having two separate parties because Momo insisted we’d all be too _uncool_ meddling with the kids. But Tzuyu said she preferred seeing us let loose. I told her we all used to be Queens of the night back then.”

“Why would you tell your precious daughter that?” Jihyo deadpans, unamused. 

Nayeon joins in, frowning at her friend. “You were _never_ part of the party scene though? You were always hiding somewhere, making out with—”

“OKAY! NAYEON! YOUR DAUGHTER IS HERE!” Jihyo immediately interjects, moving swiftly over to her godchild to cover her ears and _glare_ at her mother. 

It’s all too futile though, with how aunt Momo’s cheeks flush a visible shade of pink and aunt Sana’s eyes widen at the mention, but Chaeyoung appreciates her aunt Jihyo’s perpetual instinct to protect her from anything relatively obscene, treating her like she’s still a child.

“ _Anyways_ …” Thankfully, Mina’s always had the natural ability to pacify the situation and reel it back to normal grounds. “Is there any dress code or theme we have to follow?

Momo is the one driving for now. She grabs the keys from the pocket of Sana's joggers and unlocks the Volvo, heading off after hugging everyone goodbye, Chaeyoung a little bit tighter.

"Originally, there wasn't any theme but we decided one for uniformity. Since it's a reunion gathering-slash-big party, and 90s fashion is making a comeback again…" Sana smiles cheekily. "We decided the theme would be 1998!"

A pause ensues.

"As in, the year?" Dahyun asks, breaking the questioning silence. 

"Not just the year! _Our senior year!"_ Sana's animated excitement is contagious. She bounces in her steps until everybody else is joining in on the hype and panting for air a minute later when they reach the car. _They're that old._

"Anyways", Sana finally gathers enough breath to speak up again without _wheezing_ in between. She reaches the passenger's door and opens it. "It's basically 90s themed in general, but we're trying to highlight the entire madness that was our senior year." 

She climbs up the car. "We're celebrating the spirit of 1998, you get it?" 

Everyone laughs at Sana’s unintentionally soft impersonation of a gangster. 

"Good!" The door closes with a thud. Sana rolls down the window as Momo begins backing the driveway. She waves goodbye at everyone. "Dress up okay?! We gotta look good for the _Party of the Year_ again! Also don’t be late! Gates open at 8PM!"

_Party of the Year._

Chaeyoung feels a shudder when she hears the title again. The last time she went to her aunt’s party, a lot of things had happened. It was her first and her _last_ in 1998. Chaeyoung just hopes however the 2018 version of her aunt’s party goes, it brings nothing but better things for them.

***

Later on, when Jihyo drops them off to head home and prepare herself for the party, Nayeon decides to talk about a _certain_ topic Chaeyoung wished to _never_ –or at least, not in the meantime–be the receiving end of. 

To be frank, any other time would have been better so as long as she was given a head’s up and not when she’s in the middle of trying to take down the fat white molded in Resident Evil 7. Of all the better moments Nayeon could have asked the question, she decides that one instance is the _perfect_ time to. 

“So... _Tzuyu_ huh?” 

Chaeyoung accidentally throws her last grenade. _Fuck._ “Mom, what the _heck_ are you talking about?” 

Nayeon emerges from the walk-in closet sporting a _ridiculous_ shit-eating grin on her face. “I mean, I don’t mind having Sana and Momo as my in-laws…” 

“MOM! WHAT THE HELL!?” 

There are clothes neatly laid out on the bed behind Chaeyoung. Nayeon picks one up by the hanger–a dark green polo shirt with a pink collar–and holds it in front of the full-length mirror, alternating glances between the shirt and her daughter’s adorable frown for her but directed towards the ongoing game on the television screen. 

“I’m just saying”, Nayeon shrugs nonchalantly, feigning innocence. “You were _so_ obvious earlier, you know? When your aunt Momo was showing Tzuyu’s baby pictures, you couldn’t even tone down the smile on your face.” 

“Ugghhh.” Chaeyoung groans. She’s running out of bullets and her mother is talking about her hopeless crush on an unattainable girl. Can it get any worse? “Mom, _please_ stop talking about it…” 

“Why? I bet your aunt Sana and aunt Momo will be _sooo_ happy if they find out you like their Tzuyu.”

The fat white molded belly bumps Chaeyoung’s character to death. _WHAT THE HELL—_

“Mom!” Chaeyoung nearly throws the controller at the TV. She suppresses the urge to. That’ll be 498,000 Won down the drain if she does so. “I just got _killed_ because of you!”

“Good.” Nayeon quips before plopping down unceremoniously beside her grumpy daughter on the edge of the bed, nudging her by the shoulder. “That way you can talk to me properly about this...what do you kids call it nowadays? That beverage phrase when something’s interesting? Coke? Soju?” 

Chaeyoung _can’t_ even anymore. “Tea?” 

“Ah, yes! Tea. That way you can talk to me _properly_ about this _tea_ ~”

Chaeyoung rolls her eyes at her mother. It would have been adorable under a different context. 

She falls down on her back with a huff, legs dangling on the edge of the bed as she stares at the tiny cracks of their ceiling. “There’s nothing remotely _interesting_ about it, mom. I don’t know why you’re even calling it _tea._ ” 

Nayeon joins her daughter, lying down as well. “It is _very much_ interesting! It’s your _love life!_ ” She points it out as if it’s a big deal. “Is she also the girl you met at the camp? The one you learned how to make paper flowers from?” 

Chaeyoung’s head immediately snaps to face her mother. “You know about that? How?” 

“Of course I do. I’m your mom.” The smug grin on Nayeon’s face turns even _more_ puffed up. Chaeyoung isn’t getting any of it. 

Thankfully, Nayeon relents, realizing her words sound just as ridiculous as it did in her mind. 

“Okay, _fine._ ” She sighs, rolling over on her side to face her daughter, positioning herself with her arm angled upwards and her cheek resting on her knuckles. “I connected the dots.” 

_You didn’t connect shit._

“When your aunt Momo showed a picture of the paper flowers Tzuyu made for them, I remembered about the hyacinths you gave to me from camp. They looked a little bit the same. Your aunt Sana used to teach us how to make paper flowers back then. I figured she must’ve taught Tzuyu too and in return, she taught you.” 

Chaeyoung honestly can’t believe how fast her mother picks up on things related to these concerns but never when it comes to other more obvious issues like, say, _her own love life._

“Honestly, mom...” But since they’re here now and it’s become _far too_ exhausting trying to acknowledge every other issue and avoid anything associated with the shady area that is her _thing_ with Tzuyu, Chaeyoung relents. Also because it’s her mom. “Tzuyu’s just _way_ too out of my league.” 

There’s a stifled smug grin on Nayeon’s face. Internally, she’s celebrating her victory after successfully bulldozing through her daughter’s many, _many_ built-up walls around her feelings. Externally, she becomes the personified pleading face emoji. 

“ _O_ _ut of your league?_ ”

Chaeyoung wants to slap her mom’s face with a pillow but it’s too far for her to reach. She hides her face into the sheets instead, slamming down on it with a groan. “Ugghh! Stop looking at me like that!” 

Nayeon overlooks her daughter’s complaining and focuses dotingly on the more important matters here. “What makes you say she’s out of your league?” 

Chaeyoung can think of a _thousand_ reasons why. 

She first thinks of how Tzuyu stayed with her even though they were nothing but strangers to each other. Even the organizers wanted her to join the other members and not lock herself up in the art room with the allergic kid. Tzuyu split her time between helping the organizers with the younger members and staying by Chaeyoung’s side even though she never needed to. 

She remembers how she used to let Tzuyu walk ahead of her every single time they were together. Because the breeze would blow opposite their direction and Tzuyu was the closest Chaeyoung ever was to a beautiful flower. With her it felt like she was in a spring field everyday. Tzuyu smelled like heaven’s flowers. Even Chaeyoung’s allergies were taken aback by it. 

And then she thinks of the way Tzuyu’s eyes would always meet hers whenever they would see each other after the summer camp, at the diner in separate tables with far different companies. In a room filled with people, their eyes felt like they were fated to meet. Like there was a magnetic pull that attracted them towards each other. 

(Tzuyu would _always_ smile at her every single time. Chaeyoung never looked long enough to see it.)

Chaeyoung can think of a _thousand_ of reasons why Chou Tzuyu is out of her league, _too better for her._ She only ends up with this: “Because she’s a _cheerleader._ ”

It’s enough to get her mother riled up. Just as Chaeyoung expected. 

“What if she’s a cheerleader? So?” Nayeon sits up on the bed, legs criss-crossed. “Is that something that’ll show up on your marriage certificate?” 

“Mom, you have to _stop_ talking about getting married!” Chaeyoung can’t help but laugh at the serious frown on her mother’s face. “

“You know, I’m getting the vibe that there’s more to this story than what you’re telling me…” Nayeon trails off, raising a brow at her daughter. “Come on, spill it. I might have the answers of the universe for you here.” 

Chaeyoung honestly can’t believe her dorky mother used to be the school Queen Bitch.”I don’t know, mom. I just don’t think someone like _her_ can even consider having feelings for someone like _me._ ” 

“Don’t sell yourself out!” Nayeon chides. “You are an _amazing_ person, Chaeyoung. And I’m not saying that because I’m your mother. I’m saying that because I _used_ to be someone like Tzuyu. And you know what I think? I think that whatever you are shouldn’t define what you feel for a person. And that _you_ shouldn’t assume someone else’s feelings just because you’re afraid of being disappointed.”

If there’s one thing Nayeon has learned throughout the years and just kind of decided to be stupid and overlook it, blame the universe for every mishap in her life, it’s that _communication_ is important, and that there’s _nothing_ that can stand in the way of great love. Even timing itself. Love will only fail if you let it fail. 

“You should talk to her tonight, sweetie.” Nayeon reaches down to run her fingers through her daughter’s bird’s nest of hair. “Stop worrying about my love life when you still have to fix yours.” 

Chaeyoung swats her mother’s hand away and pulls her back down on the bed. “Yours is _urgent._ Mine can wait. I still have a lot of years waiting for me.” 

“Are you saying I’m going to die?!”

“I’m saying you’re _old_ , mom.” Chaeyoung snorts, rolling off the bed immediately when Nayeon reaches for her to probably choke her to death. She runs away from her mother. “AAAH!”

“Come here, you disrespectful—”

“STOP! THIS IS CHILD ABUSE!” Chaeyoung meets the corner of the room. It’s a dead end. She falls on her butt, knees to her chest and face hiding away. 

“You’re an adult.” Nayeon grumbles, rolling her eyes at her cowering daughter. “Get up and get dressed. We can’t be late to your aunts’ party.” 

Chaeyoung sneaks a glance at her mother. Nayeon’s already walking back inside her closet. 

Chaeyoung lets out a relieved sigh. 

***

(When Nayeon hears the door close behind her, she can’t help but fall to the floor, the cabinet handle useless in holding her up. 

The universe really _is_ funny for putting her daughter in this situation. She can’t help but wonder how history repeats itself so easily. 

Nayeon laughs at how they turned the tables now. She knows _exactly_ how Chaeyoung is feeling. 

She and Jeongyeon used to be the same.

Nayeon just _hopes_ her daughter won’t make the same mistake twice.)

* * *

**this is the author's midway friendly reminder to**

**~ PAUSE FOR A MINUTE ~**

**THIS IS AN INTERMISSION BECAUSE** goddamn this is a looooong chapter 

_but you're halfway done already! the worst is near!_

kidding. or not.

**OKAY YOU CONTINUE READING NOW **♥****

* * *

Everywhere she looks is bleak and dismal and not at all as welcoming as what the giant digital billboards say. 

It’s much like standing in the middle of a tranquil current of blurred faces and sleep-permeated movements, hauling behind them wheeled carriers like they were dragging bodies in cadaver bags. Everyone moved at a steady, moderate pace, their eyes heavily glued on their cellular devices while the others had the luxury of a good cup of coffee. 

The only noise that penetrated the crack of dawn serenity was the mechanical voice speaking overhead, announcing a surge of all the other scheduled arrivals. 

She doesn’t hear it; kind of blurs the noise away, to be honest. She focuses on the maddening sound of some jingle (it would have been catchy and cute had it not been _four_ in the _fucking_ morning) playing behind the _ninth_ –yes, she counted–giant digital billboard displaying a rather colorful illustration of a receiving sign. 

There’s a picture of a group of inhumanly beautiful ladies smiling at her. She knows it’s not really _at_ her. It just feels like it. Their polished white teeth smiles are unnerving if you look at it longer than necessary, so she stops and counts them instead. Nine heads. Oddly well-maintained colored hairs. Dressed in expensive-looking sponsored clothes. A few members are pointing at two conspicuous words flickering above their heads, edited in perfectly so that it looks like it was a prop in the actual photoshoot and not just CGI. 

The words flash brighter than the girls’ polished white smiles. 

**_Welcome home!_ **

Underneath it is a byline that calls the picture-perfect ladies as some big girl group. She doesn’t linger long enough to read their band name. The two words above draw more of her attention.

**_Welcome home!_ **

It’s been the ninth sign and the ninth time she’s read the two words ever since arriving roughly fifteen minutes ago, navigating the enormous metal cocoon-airport for ten minutes more, and yet the words still sit uncomfortably in her stomach.

_Welcome home?_

How oddly fascinating it is people still succumb to the notion that _home_ is a tangible structure of four walls and a roof above their heads. That _home_ can come in a variety of designs–Victorian? Neoclassical? Contemporary? 

It’s even _more_ incredulous how they think _home_ is something they can easily just leave behind and come back to whenever they want to. That _home_ is a space they can just give up and replace. 

_Home_ isn’t a place. They call that a house. 

_Home_ is the feeling. That’s why people get _homesick._

Yoo Jeongyeon only knows two spaces she can call home—one in California, a small apartment she lives in with her parents that can hardly be called a _home_ now that her parents don't live in it anymore, and one in a country thousands of miles away, built not with four walls and a ceiling above to cover, but with soft fabric and open arms, in the embrace of a girl she's left behind and hopes is still waiting for her. 

If someone asked Jeongyeon which home she’d prefer, she would know what to say immediately. 

Her answer lies in the way she hugs herself close as she takes in the overwhelming feel of the bleak and dismal airport, imagining it’s someone else’s arms embracing her tight and gluing her broken pieces back together from all the fighting she’s battled for so long and so far away, telling her nothing else matters now, everything will be okay, _she’s finally home._

If someone asked Jeongyeon which home she’d prefer to live in forever, she would laugh. 

There was never really any other choice to consider. 

_Her home is here, hopefully still waiting._

***

Daniel and Jihyo arrive at nine o’clock.

One hour late.

Nayeon isn’t _amused._

“You’re late!” She greets them with a frown when she opens the door before Jihyo could even knock or ring the doorbell. “What the hell happened to being punctual?! You know how hard it is to get in when we’re _late._ ”

Jihyo can only respond with a defeated sigh and an apologetic face. “I’m sorry. We got stalled on our way.” 

Over her shoulders, Nayeon can see Daniel through the left open shotgun door, hastily fixing his hair in front of the rearview mirror. Nayeon looks back at her friend and narrows her eyes closely. Jihyo’s wearing a lovely striped long-sleeved crop top and high-waisted denim shorts. Her hair is styled in loose waves, beautiful cascading down her shoulders. 

She looks just like the Park Jihyo Nayeon met decades ago. 

“Did you stall yourselves?” Nayeon asks with a shit-eating grin, moving her brows up and down with her sly innuendo. Chaeyoung isn’t around. She’s back in her room retrieving her phone. 

Jihyo gets it without even a second to spare. “Shut up!” The thought is considerable but not _now_ . “Daniel took too long to prepare. He wanted to look _cool_ when he meets his AV club buddies again.” She looks over her shoulders and points at her husband, “See? He’s not yet even done.” 

Nayeon doesn’t get to indulge her best friend with another mischievous, _rated_ joke. Chaeyoung emerges from the hall, phone in hand. “Got it!” 

Jihyo _doesn’t_ let Nayeon make another inappropriate innuendo. She leads the mother and daughter over to the car waiting for them after Nayeon locks up the house. 

Chaeyoung slides inside the backseat with a huff. It’s always taxing when you’re _159_ cm tall and the car’s steps are too high. Her mother takes the space beside her, smoothing down her green polo shirt and her denim skirt.

“Buckle up, ladies.” Daniel announces suavely from his seat behind the wheel. He maneuvers the Cadillac out of the driveway and into the main street.

Five minutes into the peacefully quiet car ride, Daniel suddenly speaks up, “Chaeyoung?” They meet gazes through the rearview mirror. “Since we’re going to a 90s themed party, maybe you’d care for a lecture about 1998? The year we’re _time travelling_ to?” 

He seems high-above-the-skies excited and certain about whatever it is he’s trying to do, and her aunt Jihyo looks with doting eyes and an affectionate smile, before turning to Chaeyoung with a permissive nod that probably says _please, entertain him._

Chaeyoung only smiles. “Sure? I guess?” 

“OKAY!” Everyone winces when Daniel celebrates a little too loud. He mutters an apology right after. “Sooo...1998. The year we were all seniors. The year Bruce Willis was an astronaut saving the world with Aerosmith’s I Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing. The year Fin K.L. debuted with Blue Rain and S.E.S. released Dreams Come True. The year everyone thought Posh Spice and that soccer dude made the cutest couple on earth when _me and your aunt Jihyo_ existed—”

“We weren’t even dating yet that time...?” 

“—Yes, _that_ year…” 

Chaeyoung can’t help but laugh at the couple in front. They’re single-handedly the _most_ adorable straight couple she knows. 

Daniel continues on with his 1998 storytelling and Chaeyoung can’t help but smile unknowingly at the thought that she already knows most of the stuff he’s talking about. _The time your mom and aunts won the talent show competition. They used to be the coolest kids. We even used to have magic acts and fortune tellers in school! Oh! And the PARTIES!_

Somewhere in the middle of Daniel’s raving about the only Minatozaki party he went to and was even _late_ at–because he had to fix the AVP for the talent show–Chaeyoung’s attention is brought towards her mother, who nudges her softly and sits closer to whisper, “You know, I met your dad at that party.” 

Chaeyoung can’t help but _groan_ and cover her ears. 

(Thankfully, uncle Daniel is too occupied talking about stumbling in front of a lost potted plant in the backyard that he doesn’t notice anything)

Nayeon pulls at her daughter’s hands. “Come on, just listen.” 

“ _No_ .” Chaeyoung grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t want to listen to you talk about _him_ .” _Or whatever you did with him that night..._

“You know…” Nayeon can’t help but let out a defeated sigh. “You have to stop painting your father as some kind of bad guy in the story, sweetie.” 

When Nayeon thinks of her daughter’s biological father, she remembers the benevolence and the welcoming smiles that greeted her widely (and the _massive_ mansion they offered to gift her with before they knew about her strictly-friendly relationship with their prodigious son). Above anything else, the Son’s helped Nayeon a lot during the times she didn’t have any means to provide for her daughter. 

“If anything, _I’m_ the real antagonist in the narrative.” Even after Nayeon cut ties with them, they still offered to help her from afar. “I was selfish and greedy. All your dad ever did was love the wrong person.” 

“Mom, you’re not selfish and greedy.” Chaeyoung broods, looking at her mother with a frown of concern. “You’re _amazing_ and kind, and beautiful inside and out.” 

“You should say that to my younger self.” Nayeon snorts. “I had everything I could ever have and yet I wanted _more._ I was never really content with anything except with one person. Even her I couldn’t get.” 

She looks at her daughter and is only met with a pitiful pout and puppy eyes. Nayeon laughs it off, playfully nudging Chaeyoung’s shoulder with her own. “Oh cut it off”, she chuckles. “I’m very much happy with what I have now. All I need is for you to _stop_ being unnecessarily mad at your father. He’s a nice guy. They’re a nice family. Your grandparents wanted you to take their family name so that you’ll have your own portion in their family inheritance.”

“WHAT?” 

“It saves me the trouble of working part-time jobs just to make sure you’re set off after university—”

“WHAT!?” 

Nayeon turns at her daughter and sees the younger girl’s jaw slacking. “Yeah…that’s why your surname is _Son_ even though I never married your dad.” 

Chaeyoung feels like she’s been living in a different body all this time. “That’s…” she can’t even think of anything to say. It’s overwhelming enough that your mother castigates herself for _everything_ ; it’s even more overwhelming that she’s suddenly revealing all this information about yourself that you never even knew. (It’s even more, _more_ overwhelming to find out you’re set to inherit a fortune just for being a _Son_ )

“Yeah.” Nayeon shrugs nonchalantly. “But I think you can only claim it after you graduate university. That’s why we still have to save up for your college expenses.”

_Oh._

“Chaeyoung! Are you still listening?” Daniel’s voice immediately breaks Chaeyoung’s stupefied look at her mother. She swiftly turns to meet her uncle’s gaze through the rearview mirror and bobs her head up and down. 

“Okay.” Daniel smiles. “ _Anyways_ , where was I?” His eyes dart back to the road. “Oh! Yes, the time in senior year when I realized I had a massive crush on your aunt…” 

“And when was that?” Jihyo’s ears perk at the words, a curious smile on her lips. 

“Remember the time we met at the diner? When Mingyu sent me to meet you and I accidentally spilled the milkshake on you before we left?” 

“You mean the first time we ever talked to each other?” 

Chaeyoung thinks they’re adorable. Her uncle Daniel is a hopeless nerd and her aunt Jihyo is hopelessly _in love_. 

One day, Chaeyoung wishes someone will talk about her mother the same way her uncle Daniel talks about her aunt Jihyo, like they’re telling tales of the universe and all its magnificence and wonder. Like they’re universe is the person itself. 

Chaeyoung hopes to meet that _someone_ for her mother tonight. 

***

The sun has already given up its last breath by the time Jeongyeon wakes up several _hours_ after arriving at her hotel and checking in. A star-studded sky is what greets her dark room the moment she opens her eyes. 

It takes about a few seconds for her to adjust herself. The jet lag coming from a direct thirteen-hour flight still lives rent free in her body. Her limbs are all wobbly when she attempts to stand up but they regain their consciousness after a few stretches here and there. 

Somewhere in the cold and empty luxury suite is her saddle bag haphazardly lying on the carpeted floor, exactly where Jeongyeon unceremoniously dropped it the moment the bellhop left after assisting her with her bags. 

Jeongyeon drags herself over to the bag, crouching down to grab it from the floor. She fishes for her phone inside and quickly discards the bag again, throwing somewhere to the direction of the sofa.

Opening her phone again and coming in contact with the already-dim display screen feels like a centuries-old sleeping vampire waking up and seeing the light of day again. Jeongyeon _hisses_ at the brightness. 

She unlocks the phone, lowers the brightness to absolutely nothing, and then proceeds to go through her inbox, sifting through ads and email blasts to look for the pdf copy of the reunion invitation Seungyeon forwarded to her a few days ago. She lands on the email from Jennie Kim.

The invitation is designed like it was a page torn out of Mean Girls’ Burn Book but with more colors and 90s-reliving graphics. On the upper center of the portrait invite is the title of the reunion celebration, typed in magazine cut-out letter font.

Underneath it, past the collage of enhanced senior year photos probably dug up from their yearbook and a well thought-of guideline for the theme and dress code, sits the information Jeongyeon is looking for. 

_8PM at Sana and Momo’s?_

Jeongyeon looks up at the time on her phone. **17:43.**

_Holy shit._

It takes about just that for the jet lag to wither away, replaced by something akin to a sudden burst of energy. It’s not that Jeongyeon is _excited_ for the gathering. _Hell no._ Excited should be the last word for it.

Yoo Jeongyeon is _terrified._ _Dreadful. Anxious._ And all the other words within that idea. 

This is the most reckless decision she ever made her entire life. Yoo Jeongyeon isn’t reckless. She isn’t impulsive. She sticks to the plan. She stays within the boundaries. She follows the rules. Her cautious nature has offered her sanity and protection for _this_ long. 

How the hell did it take _one_ ransom-note-looking invite for her to waste half her savings just to fly off across the world? And for what, a sliver of _hope?_ A chance at something she missed out on long ago? At love? 

_For Nayeon?_

Jeongyeon _really_ wants to bury herself six feet under the ground now.

It’s useless to do so, however. Her hotel room is on the 12th floor. 

The regret is beginning to seep in now. Everything flashes back to Jeongyeon like a replay of her personal favorite ongoing show, A Series of Yoo Jeongyeon’s Bad Decisions™! 

In the middle of ongoing talks with what can possibly be the _biggest_ opportunity of her entire life–an offer to manage a professional team playing in the NWSL–Jeongyeon flies off thousands of miles away at the behest of an funnily-edited invitation card, to a country she’s long _tried_ to put behind in her past, a place that held such a big part of her. A place where her _home_ is. 

_Damn. I should have thought more about this…_

Jeongyeon sinks down to the floor, letting the pads of her fingers set sail on the seamless carpet flooring. It helps her think, decongest the surge of thoughts in the stormy waters of her head. 

She has nowhere to go to for help now. No one to call and ask for advice. It's three in the morning in California and Jeongyeon doesn't know anyone to contact in Korea after she changed her phone and forgot to back it up. 

_Fuck. I'm dead._

In the darkness of the room, with only the moonlight spilling through the panoramic windows, Jeongyeon _thinks. Hard._ Contemplates badly. Is she ready to add another episode to her ongoing personal TV show? 

It takes about ten minutes for Jeongyeon to think. **17:53.**

If she does this, it will be the _most ridiculous_ and _reckless_ thing she'll ever do–probably even more dangerous than the time she indulged Seungyeon and bungee jumped off the Bridge to Nowhere for a year's worth of cleaning supplies. 

_Yep. This is totally more reckless._

It takes another thirty minutes for Jeongyeon to dress up and get herself ready. 

She leaves at exactly nine o'clock.

***

Dahyun watches from the Rover as her wife trudges over to the car in model-like steps, her oversized Off-White tote bag hanging on her forearm swinging like a pendulum with every pace.

The backseat door opens, the darkness of the car illuminated by the overhead dome lights. Mina says something while she puts down the bag but Dahyun can't hear her over NWA's Fuk Da Police blasting in the expensive audio system.

"Dahyunnie?" Mina repeats, but her soft voice is no match for the intense rapping of the song and her wife's own voice competing against it. She can't help but let the warmth fill her up and smile dotingly at the sight instead.

Mina closes the door and rounds the car, stepping inside the driver's seat and finally getting around to lowering the stereo system's volume down a little, just so her wife doesn't break her eardrums _again._ It takes this much for Dahyun to finally notice her, flashing a wide smile, "Oh, you're here!" 

Even though she's been _here_ for five minutes now, and has been calling for her wife for another few, Mina just can't help but giggle warmly at Dahyun. "I am."

"Did you lock up the house already?" Despite being a property that has five gates and ten lock systems, they still get paranoid at times knowing how there are more than one way to get inside their house (of course, the real challenge is always finding the house itself with all Mother Nature getting in the way).

Mina nods, backing out the bumpy driveway outside their gate. "Among other things, yes." 

Dahyun thinks Mina looks the coolest when she's driving. She spends most of her time just admiring her wife behind the steering wheel instead of looking at the outside world from her window, the reason why Mina works with the GPS when driving instead of following Dahyun's directions–or lack thereof...

"You brought the big tote bag." Dahyun twists her body to glance at the backseat. "Why? Are we going to sleep over at Sana and Momo unnies'?"

Mina easily navigates through the dark and desolate road winding out to the main street. "I brought medicine kits and first aid. But I also brought some clothes and your blanket if you want to sleep over at their house." 

"Why'd you bring first aid? We're not going to go extreme there…" Dahyun, in all honesty, might _partially_ be lying. BUT! It's just because she doesn't want Mina worrying so much. If anything, her wife deserves to relax and enjoy the party too, meet up and chat with their old schoolmates over wine and some expensive hors d'oeuvre. Not play babysitter to her rather whimsical and injury-attracting wife.

"I _promise_ I'm not going to go jump off the roof or walk into a wrong room and pee on anyone's grandmother's potted plant."

Mina glances at her wife shortly, a concerned pinch at her perfect brows. "You...you peed on someone's—?"

"I. DID. NOT!" Dahyun's rather aggressive opposition is already the answer. 

Mina pretends it isn't. For the sake of her wife's _cool_ image. "Anyways", she holds back the laughter bubbling at the base of her throat. "I just want to be sure no one gets injured. You know how I don't like going to big parties…"

"Babe, no one's going to get injured. You know how _super_ careful I am whenever I'm at social gatherings—"

"You almost got hit by a car the last time we were in one of Sana's parties…"

"That was twenty years ago and _almost._ I didn't get hit." Dahyun states matter-of-factly. "I may have fainted but that was on _me._ I probably consumed too much alcohol for my own good. My head felt like it was a piñata in a children’s party. Which, by the way, suddenly makes me think of that girl...you remember? The one I was with that entire night."

By now they're already turning to the main street, bustling with cars and people walking around at night. Mina doesn't get to glance at Dahyun anymore. She's too focused making sure she doesn't hit anyone.

"You mean your _bro_?" 

Dahyun frowns at the familiar dulling ache in her chest whenever the name pops up in her head. "I can't remember anything about her." It's always a fragmented memory, a blurred image in her head. It's enough to know the existence of that person, but too little to remember anything about her. "But my memories of her give me the same vibe as Chaeyoungie." 

"Chaeyoung... _our_ Chaeyoung?"

Dahyun nods, not that Mina could see it with how her eyes are glued on the road. "Yeah. If she didn't save me that night, I might have been dead. Or worse, my parents would have sent me away to boarding school or something." 

Mina can't help but chuckle at her wife’s priorities. Her in-laws _are_ kind of scary… "Their names sound a little bit alike, I remember. If I'm not mistaken, your old _bro's_ name started with a Chae too."

Dahyun taps her chin unknowingly, thinking hard and racking her mind for any memory of the name. "Chae...min? Chae...ryeong? Chae...tisha?" 

_"Chaetisha?"_

All Dahyun gets from racking her mind is brain fart. "I can't remember any name. I'll just call her that. Chaetisha, my old bro." 

Mina just lets out an incredulous laugh. Probably akin to the sound of fairies gracefully laughing. "I can't believe you…" and she really can't, but she says it with so much love and affection and warmth in her tone, it only makes Dahyun's cheeks flush. 

"You know, if Chaetisha didn't talk my parents into letting me stay and finish the year, I wouldn't have ever been able to confess to you."

“I know.” It’s endearing how Mina can’t control the smile tugging at her lips now. Or how warm she feels inside. “I’m thankful for that the most, among all the other remarkable things your bro did.” 

“You mean my Chaetisha?” Dahyun grins cheekily. 

Mina gives in. “Yes. Your _Chaetisha_.” 

There’s a silent, comfortable pause after that, as Dahyun claims her victory. Mina drives the wheel with one hand while the other reaches out for her wife’s hand. She interlaces their fingers together and rests them on top of the center console. 

“By the way, do you think Sana and Momo unnie have a piano I can use for later? Or is that too much to ask for?”

The car stops in front of a red stoplight, counting down forty-three seconds. Mina spares Dahyun a quizzical look, expecting nothing short of amusement from the dynamic two. “They have a yogurt vending machine in their living room. I don’t see why having a piano is _too_ _much_. Why?” 

“I want to play.” Dahyun feels giddy just by the thought of getting to play the piano in front of an audience. “I’ve been studying the classics in piano arrangements just for tonight.” 

“Really? What’s your setlist?” Unfortunately, the stoplight is down to the last ten seconds and Mina can’t remove her focus from the road. She squeezes Dahyun’s hand instead, a little gesture to relay her excitement. 

Dahyun always played the grand piano at home. Mina’s days were labeled out not by date, by weather or by season, but by the different beautiful melodies that would fill their spacious house’s silence. Listening to her wife play is always one of Mina’s biggest pleasures in life. It always felt like the heavens were there whenever Dahyun would let her fingers dance on the ivory keys. 

“I’m going to play my favorite song in the entire universe.” 

Mina can already see Sana and Momo’s house by the looming horizon. “The one you played in our wedding?” 

Dahyun smiles. “Yes. That one.” 

***  
  


This is _nothing_ like how Chaeyoung expected it to be. 

When she saw the invitation from her mother’s phone, her initial expectations for a _high school reunion-slash-post-festival celebration_ included butlers carrying around trays of expensive champagne and hors d'oeuvres, a chamber orchestra playing a set of calming classical music, and only a few teenagers here and there gathered in the more _interesting_ rooms of the house, probably with their faces glued to their phones. 

Chaeyoung did not, at all, expect _this._

Even from underneath the front yard, in the basement garage where Daniel parked the car, everyone could already feel the bass reverberating from the boosted surround-sound audio system. It would have been understandable if it blasted Bach or Pachelbel but _nooooo..._

They were playing Katy Perry’s I Kissed A Girl. 

“I bet your ass it’s Sana’s playlist plugged in.” 

“Nayeon, _language_!”

Chaeyoung can only laugh at her mother and her aunt. Unlike the times she’s visited the lovely country manor, it’s a different lady clad in a tweed spaghetti strap dress that greets them, emerging from the large open doors, running over effortlessly in platform heels.

“Nayeon! Jihyo!” 

The lady looks _oddly_ familiar yet Chaeyoung can’t put a name to her. She only finds out when she collides with Nayeon and Jihyo in a huff, arms wrapping around the two and squeezing them together. 

Her mother laughs. “Jennie, we missed you!”

Chaeyoung’s nostrils are instantly pervaded with the scent of expensive floral perfume. Judging by the amount of Chanel she’s seeing from the woman, she assumes it’s probably Chanel perfume too. 

Jennie takes in the feeling of seeing the two again. When they pull apart, she feels immensely taken aback by the emotions surging inside of her. Her eyes are glistening with tears that she immediately dabs with a handkerchief (Chaeyoung guesses it’s Chanel too).

“I haven’t seen you two in _years_! Ah!” 

Nayeon can’t help but chuckle at the sight of her former co-cheerleader. Jennie is still as vibrant and effervescent as ever, radiating in her new mature glow. Unlike when they were reckless and spoiled teenagers parading around their skimpy skirt uniforms and cheerleader statuses, Jennie looks like the embodiment of elegance and wealth.

Chaeyoung figures this is probably the right time for her to leave. With the way Jennie smiles cunningly at her mom, her eyes sharp with playful mischief; the way she moves in fluid, femme fatal-like motions. It's the best time to probably excuse herself out before she overhears anything else that might require another ear bleaching. 

“Mom, I’m gonna go inside now…” She mentions just so her mother knows, to which Nayeon simply nods to and smiles in acknowledgement before seeing her off. 

Not even a full minute after her daughter enters the palatial Hirai-Minatozaki estate, Jihyo is already excusing herself as well. 

“Daniel wants me to meet his AV Club friends…” She says with a nonchalant shrug. “Something about Mingyu not believing he’s married to me.” 

“So you’re going there to prove that?” Nayeon asks incredulously. 

“Who wouldn’t want bragging rights over _this_?” Jihyo wiggles her brows and throws on a cheeky grin, running her hands smoothly down her s-line for emphasis.

She leaves before Nayeon could even react at that once-in-a-lifetime Park Jihyo self-flattery act. _Is this house drugged or something?_

Her stupefied trance is shaken by the tug at her arm. Nayeon looks down to see Jennie perfectly hugging it now with her own arms, pulling her close as they begin making their way down the lengthy cobblestone walkway leading to the giant french door entrances.

Now that they’re left alone, Nayeon can properly acknowledge Jennie’s all-Chanel get-up already. It’s hard _not_ to look at it when the dress hugs Jennie’s proportions _perfectly_ and the neckline is _low_ enough to show a little of _that._

“I thought this was a children’s party?” Nayeon asks in jest. Because that’s the only thing she can come up with for now, aside from _why are you dressed like they're serving cocktail hour and free lap dances?_

Jennie follows the direction of Nayeon’s eyes, landing down on herself. She immediately understands, unable to help the alluring saccharine laugh that escapes her champagne-colored lips. "Oh honey, the only child here is the one in Jisoo’s stomach.” 

“ _What…_ ”

“You think I’d allow minors in the same room as _Jackson Wang_?” Jennie asks like it’s the most obvious question. 

Nayeon must have _really_ missed out on a lot because she’s just _so_ lost. “I thought he’s some kind of _overprotective daddy_ now with his little girls?” 

“But are they here?” Jennie playfully winks, stops in her steps before they enter the gargantuan frosted glass french doors. Nayeon can already hear Hit Me Baby One More Time blasting from inside, bass so intense even the thick glass panel windows are shaking. _Yep, totally Sana’s playlist._

“There are teenagers here though? My _daughter_ is here.” 

“Your little baby is nineteen. Jihyo told me.” She opens the doors in a way like she’s _beholding_ what’s behind it. “You think I’d let kids see us adults let loose? The only teenagers around are the ones from the talent show earlier, which, by the way, the cheerleading team won. _Woot woot!_ ”

Unfortunately, Nayeon doesn’t get to celebrate with equal enthusiasm. When Jennie opens the doors completely, _beholding_ the state of the other side, Nayeon feels like she’s just travelled to a different universe, back in time, to her senior year, except everyone here is now older and there are teenagers roaming around with giant iPhones. 

“WELCOME TO 1998!” Jennie announces with a big breath, stretching her arms out to emphasize the 90s themed party. She pulls a dumbfounded Nayeon through a crowd of teenagers wildly playing beer pong by the grand foyer, into a bigger high-ceiling space that is Sana and Momo’s other _bigger_ living room. 

“I tried to copy every little detail from our old parties back then but it was a little too late for me to hire Terry Mullan!” Jennie says, almost shouting in Nayeon’s ear. 

Nayeon can’t wrap her mind around the stark difference between the slightly solemn outside world and the energy inside, probably amounting to the power of ten clubs and a rock concert rolled into one. 

Nayeon cranes her neck to look at the place from where she’s standing somewhere near the threshold of the short hallway connecting the foyer and this spacious and packed room. There are fewer people here than in the foyer but it's still enough to put up a challenge navigating around in. It’s funny how the interior of Sana and Momo’s house is designed like the inside of a royal castle and yet Nayeon is hearing bass-boosted Britney Spears as she looks around, strobe lights illuminating the room in variegated colors. 

Nayeon notices the previous expensive furniture is now out of sight, probably stored in the other living room to make space for the— “Is that an LED dance floor!?”

Jennie cocks her head to the colorful floor tiles. She beams smugly. “An _interactive_ LED dance floor.” 

“That’s so cool!” Nayeon gapes in awe. _As always, nothing but the best from Jennie Kim._ “Does it break if you…?”

“Jump on it?” Jennie finishes for her. “I don’t think so. Jackson tried earlier but all he got was a mild concussion.” 

“WHAT?!”

“Oh no, don’t worry. He’s all good now. Probably getting another beer from the kitchen.” Jennie waves off nonchalantly, as if they were talking about a small paper cut and not a minor brain injury. “He spilled his drink and then slipped. Stupid, huh? Guess some things just don’t change _that_ easily, fatherhood or not…” 

Nayeon only frowns in quizzically. Maybe it was the party and its magical time travel feel, or maybe it's just Jackson Wang being Jackson Wang, Party God himself. Either way, the entire situation sounds playfully quaint and amusingly familiar. It's almost like they're all seniors again, celebrating their youth and the time of their lives.

***

If there’s one thing Jihyo is going to miss the most about her other schoolmates, it’s probably the gag trio and their Tupac Shapur-inspired everyday wardrobe. 

Thankfully, with the 90s themed party, she gets to see it again albeit a little bit more cringe-worthy now because they’re all older and DK’s businessman aura doesn’t fit the 90s gangster image they used to pull off. He genuinely looks like he’s not enjoying any bit of the baggy jeans and the oversized baseball shirt Seungkwan forced them to wear. 

“You guys look so adorable!” Jihyo can’t help but dote on them still, reaching out to pinch Seungkwan’s cheeks like she used to just to pester him. 

Like the old days, Seungkwan bats her hands away before Jihyo can touch his cheeks. “Noona!”

Jihyo laughs. “I can’t believe you guys are dads now. Poor kids…” 

“We can’t believe _you’re_ married to him!” Mingyu arrives with a can of beer from the kitchen, handing it over to Daniel with a teasing scorn. “You wouldn’t even know him if I didn’t send him to meet you when I was at Sana noona’s party!” 

“I _knew_ him already! I just didn’t talk to him…” Jihyo tries to convince them but it’s hopeless. 

Mingyu rolls his eyes at her. “Whatever, noona.” 

“Besides, we’ve seen bigger surprises in the last hour”, DK adds with a laugh. Mingyu, Seungkwan, and Hoshi all agree with him, and Jihyo honestly _can’t_ with how they’re purposely leaving her hanging. 

“Do you plan on telling us what those are or…?” 

“Oh! Yes”, DK snaps out, genuinely looking like he was in an actual trance for a second there. Jihyo honestly doesn’t know if it was real or not. Knowing these boys, their weirdness comes innately and—

“Jackson hyung got a mild concussion…”

“WHAT THE HELL!?”

“...and we saw Jeongyeon noona earlier.” 

_What?_

***

Yoo Jeongyeon is a lot of things but she is _never late_ . She’s instilled it to herself to never be late to anything again after learning it the hard way when she was _late_ to what probably was the biggest milestone of her entire life. 

(That past mistake resulted in _terrible_ repercussions. 

She was _late_ for the birth of her universe.

Now she’s living in regrets.)

So even when she _does_ want to be late for this entire reunion party thing–because it’s silly and she’s just acting out on her reckless desires and hopeless wishes–she _still_ arrives on time. Because Jennie Kim is a master of events and she’s planned everything out to a T, the 8PM notice is a trick for those who believe showing up _fashionably late_ is still cool (apparently it’s not).

When Jeongyeon arrives at Sana and Momo’s _palatial_ estate at precisely 9:16PM, expecting that the party scene is already dying down by now, she is greeted with a big slap on her face. The party looks like it’s just getting started. 

Jeongyeon already wants to leave. She keeps her head down while trying to navigate through the maze-like insides, crowded and swarmed with recognizable faces. It’s only to her luck she doesn’t _exactly_ look the same as she did when she used to be some reckless high school kid. 

It’s hard to remember Yoo Jeongyeon when she’s no longer donning her usual shoulder-length brightly dyed hair and her varsity jacket. No one here has ever gotten close to seeing who she is now. Long gone are the high messy ponytails, the soccer team hoodies and the warm, welcoming smiles. Now they’re just plain, dark brown long hair, a colorful polo shirt, and a pair of lost, frantic eyes. 

That’s what happens when you’re 38 and you’ve witnessed more goodbyes than hellos in your life.

That’s what _also_ happens when it’s been _years_ since you’ve been around these people, and the love of your life is somewhere here too. 

Wherever _she_ is (or they are), Jeongyeon doesn’t have enough courage to face them yet. 

She doesn’t have _any_ idea where she’s trying to go but she knows there are less chances of randomly bumping into one of her _best friends_ if she isn’t in a crowded place. Jeongyeon really can’t risk anything right now. She’s done herself more trouble than what she intended, and she can’t face anyone empty handed. 

Jeongyeon needs to calm her thoughts down first and think of something to say before she suddenly _reunites_ with the girls. 

She finds the doors to the front garden open and welcoming like a beacon to her refuge. 

Jeongyeon heads over there, politely braving through the mixed dancing crowd of her old schoolmates and a few teenagers from her old school, while keeping her head at a low.

Before she can even reach for her _escape_ , the crowd to her side is suddenly parting like the red sea, muttering low curses and grumbles. 

Even with Jeongyeon’s statuesque height, she can’t see the cause of the minor uproar. Just as she’s about to _finally_ meet the exit, a girl is suddenly running in her direction, _charging_ at her like a mad bull. 

Jeongyeon steps back to give way, but just as fast as the strange girl running by is the leg that stretches out before her, ultimately causing her to trip right in front of Jeongyeon. 

Now, Jeongyeon never thought her agility and quick senses were ever really of use outside of overseeing the soccer team’s trainings, but at that moment, when her instincts immediately reach out for the girl just in time to save her from falling flat on her face, Jeongyeon feels a surge of pride in her chest ( _and something more_ ).

“You okay there, kid?” 

***

As it turns out, a living room swarmed with adults wildly dancing to Britney Spears, in a party themed after a decade where platform shoes and thick insoles were all the rage, is not exactly the greatest place for someone narrowly 5’2 like Son Chaeyoung to shove her way through. 

In all honesty, Chaeyoung doesn’t even know where she’s trying to go. The moment she entered the house through the rarely-used _other_ giant french doors, the rowdy group of boys her age playing beer pong in the foyer–she recognizes them immediately as the same ruffian jocks who often caused a ruckus at the diner–was immediately a big _no-no_ for her. Chaeyoung didn’t want to stay in that place, no matter how less crowded the grand foyer was.

That’s probably how she ended up in the main room where the party was being held at. There were adult people dancing and chattering around, dressed in all the glory of the 90s fashion scene bravado. It would have been amusing seeing everyone like they were Chaeyoung’s own _batchmates_ , but she can hardly see their faces with how tall they are, and she doesn’t know anyone outside of her mom and aunts’ friend group to even _recognize_ someone. Besides, in the very few faces she did get a glimpse of, it looks like everyone aged like fine wine. Even if Chaeyoung did see a miraculous familiar face, she wouldn’t remember who it is. 

Therefore, before she can even get stepped on by these giants, Chaeyoung stands on her tippy-toes and makes a vicinity check for the nearest exit. She spots another set of french doors a few feet away, wide open and leading to the side of the house. Chaeyoung recognizes it as the usuals entrance to her aunts’ house. Seeing as it’s quite smaller, her aunts must’ve decided to use the bigger doors directly connected to the front yard’s cobblestone walkway. 

It takes about a minute for the gears in Chaeyoung’s mind to work. She takes a good look at the obstacles in her way–just an ocean of people dancing on the _badass_ LED dancefloor–and prepares herself to brave the war.

The responsible, mature side of Chaeyoung tells her to respectfully excuse herself through the crowd. _Okay, you got this Chaeyoung. Just say excuse me and apologize if you bump someone._

The irrational and totally reckless side of her tells her to shove her way through like a bull charging at a red flag. _You got this, Chaeyoung. Just close your fucking eyes and run._

Chaeyoung closes her eyes and thinks. _Hard._

She never really followed the responsible side of her. 

“AAAAAHH!” 

The loud music acts as a sort of censor to muffle out the profanities from those she accidentally steps on or nudges. Nothing remarkably holds her back or stands in the way—that is until someone _stupidly_ stretches out their leg and Chaeyoung trips over it.

Before she can even realize her face is a good few feet away from kissing the expensive tiled floor, someone catches her by the shoulder and pulls her up. 

Chaeyoung...Chaeyoung can feel her heart thumping against her chest, on the verge of breaking through her ribcage. _That was a near-fucking-death experience. Holy shit—_

“You okay there, kid?” 

It’s probably at that one single moment in time when Chaeyoung truly felt her heart lurch to a complete stop. 

“Good thing I caught you.” She lets out a small chuckle. _Familiar._ Her smile fades when she meets Chaeyoung’s glistening eyes and quivering lips. “Hey...are you...okay? Are you hurt?” 

She can’t get her lips to say something. She can’t, for the life of her, feel _anything._ The oceans in her eyes overflow into streams of tears trailing down her face. Her chest feels heavy and surging with emotions. 

“I...do you want me to get you an ice pack? Are you hurt?” 

Chaeyoung doesn’t answer by words, and to the woman it’s enough.

“Okay. I’ll just...you wait here. I’ll go look for help.” 

Chaeyoung wants to stop her from leaving, in fear that she won’t come back anymore, but her entire body feels numb and out of control all at once, and when she’s guided over to an ottoman to sit down, she sits down even though she doesn’t want to. She lets her go even though her heart is screaming at her not to. 

When she’s finally alone and the woman has disappeared into the sea of bodies, it’s only then the air is knocked back into Chaeyoung’s senses. And when it’s there, she _breathes_ . Takes in a big air as if she’s been completely submerged into the cold waters. As if she’s been drowning until _her_. Until she came along.

Weird eyes look over at her dry heaving but Chaeyoung couldn’t care any less. The tears continue to spill and her heart aches in ten different ways, all at once. 

_Jeongyeon unnie?_

***

Nayeon roams her eyes around again only to land on an ostentatious grand piano, sitting comfortably on an elevated platform at the other end of the high-ceiling room, surrounded by velvet rope barriers. 

"Is someone going to perform?" Nayeon points over to the direction of the piano. She actually expected a chamber orchestra but a majestic grand piano will do. 

"I'm glad you asked", Jennie purses her lips towards the general direction of that other end of the room. "Someone _will_ perform...I think. Sana and Momo told me to keep the piano. Principal Park is there too. I invited him over because he started all of this talent show crap. Call it a tribute to the creator, whatever." 

Nayeon only notices then how that general area of the room is far less crowded than the space she's currently standing at. At a closer inspection, it actually looks like the VIP lounge of the bar. Proper tables are set up around and leather semi-circle seats tempting Nayeon's eyes. 

“Since you've asked, do you want to perform? With the girls, I mean. I reckon you’ve reunited with them?" Jennie shouts through the roar of the No Doubt’s Just a Girl’s outro. 

Nayeon is only able to make out the word _girls_ from what Jennie said. It's enough for her to know who she's referring to. “Have you seen them around?” 

She doesn't get a response. Jennie's suddenly occupied with chiding a few rowdy boys from the beer pong corner. 

Nayeon can feel her ears ringing with the intensity of the music. Her heart thumps along the bass-boosted intro to Lee Hyori’s 10 Minutes, rattling even the depths of soul. There’s a feeling inside of Nayeon that pulls her senses to the edge. It’s a gut intuition of _something_ , like her senses have been heightened despite the uproar around her. 

Nayeon doesn’t feel so good. 

“Hey…” She taps at Jennie’s bare shoulder. When Jennie turns at her heed, after acknowledging some rowdy teenagers, Nayeon leans in to ask under her breath, “Is it okay if I go somewhere? I feel like I’m gonna vomit with all this crowd and energy.” 

Jennie pulls back. “You just haven’t had your wine yet!” She wraps an arm around Nayeon’s shoulders, easier now that she’s wearing heels and Nayeon’s just in sneakers, part of her whole 90s getup. “Are you _seriously_ telling me Im Nayeon the Original Party Animal isn’t _there_ anymore?!”

Nayeon feels a ghost of a shudder at the old moniker. The last party she’s been to was her _former_ company’s field day dinner celebration–if that was even considered a party. The night ended with her being slapped. 

“I just don’t feel comfortable with all the—”

But something happens. Someone accidentally bumps against Jennie’s bare shoulder rather forcefully, causing Jennie to let out a yelp, ultimately cutting Nayeon off. No one hears her with the intense music playing, but Nayeon’s _instincts_ suddenly peak at the figure of the perpetrator already walking away, oblivious to the fact that _she_ just hit someone. 

She narrows her eyes at the retreating figure. Long dark brown hair in natural waves, cascading down a flashy colorful shirt tucked inside a denim skirt about as short as Nayeon’s own, falling a little above the knees, showing enough to parade long model-like legs. 

Nayeon doesn’t see the woman’s face but she feels _something_ stir inside of her. An ache, a flutter, a stillness. How can a stranger make her feel everything _all at once?_

Probably because it’s no stranger at all. 

“Jennie, I have to go.”

Nayeon doesn’t even give her friend a second to respond. She’s already walking away, following the trail of the woman, wishing _she doesn’t lose her._

Nayeon collides and bumps into a few people, some recognize her and greet her, but her senses feel dulled out. Her eyes move like spotlights focusing on one thing only. _One person only._

Nayeon can’t lose her. 

It’s been so long since she’s felt this way. This hurricane of emotions inside of her, pulling, tugging, pushing, shoving. _Everything all at once._

Nayeon lets her body move in autopilot, numb and disconnected from the real world. Her mind is stringing up oceans of memories out of habit. Her heart figures it out before her head could even register what was happening. The swell of emotions in her chest is all too familiar to ignore. What her mind tries to forget, her heart painfully remembers. 

Only one person could make Nayeon feel this way. _Everything all at once._

***

(Forgetting Yoo Jeongyeon has always been the hardest thing Nayeon ever had to do.)

***

“Sana and Momo unnie did a _spectacular_ job with the house. Right, babe?” Dahyun can’t help but crane her neck at every little detail of the mansion’s interior. Unlike her and Mina’s zen estate, it’s like a trip to the royal palace with Sana and Momo’s. 

Unfortunately, it’s so big Dahyun might just have lost Mina in it. “Babe? Mina?!” 

“I’m here!” Thankfully, Mina _never_ gets lost. It’s always the other way around. 

Dahyun sees her wife waving her hands a few steps away. She immediately runs over to her, worry subsiding quickly at the sight of Mina’s _breathtaking_ and _adorable_ gummy smile, hands pointing down at the grand structure. “I found the piano!”

And she did, of course. It’s Mina. 

In Dahyun’s intense fawning over the beautiful mansion and the equally _majestic_ crystal chandeliers hanging above, she _completely_ forgot what they were originally doing in the first place. Instead of settling down in some quieter corner, they’ve been looking around the house for the last hour or so since they’ve arrived thirty minutes past eight.

“Yay!” Dahyun squeals in glee, immediately wrapping Mina in her celebratory embrace. “You’re _so_ amazing, Minari.” 

And Mina, really, has no choice but to believe that because it’s Dahyun. She can never _not_ believe this girl—no matter how out-of-this-world some of the things she says are. _You’re so beautiful, Mitang. You’re adorable! You’re the best cook in the world. I can’t believe I’m so lucky I have you._

Mina doesn’t normally believe the praises of other people because everything always felt empty and for the sake of _just because_ . But whenever it comes from Dahyun, alongside her meaningful eyes that look at Mina like she’s the entire universe all in one, with that smile that varies from sly and cheeky to full-on wide ones, Mina can’t help but just _believe._ Fall into the sincerity in her wife’s eyes. Drown in her love. 

_Mina Myoui is so in love._

“It’s really nothing big…?” It comes naturally for her to wrap her arms around Dahyun’s slightly smaller frame, holding her around the waist, taking in the blissful feel of being in the arms of the person she loves the most. “You were just too busy looking at the ceiling.”

“Nope.” Dahyun nuzzles her face into the jasmine-scented faux fur fabric of Mina’s colorful sweater. “You’re just amazing.” 

Mina relents. “Okay, okay…” she presses a soft kiss on the crown of Dahyun’s head. “Anyways, are you going to play now?” 

“Oh! Yes!” Dahyun pulls away with a light in her eyes. She immediately steps over the velvet ropes and plops down on the ottoman, lifting the piano lid to reveal sleek, ivory keys. 

Mina already wants Dahyun back in her arms. “Okay.” She lets her yearning dissipate in a fleeting sigh. “I’ll watch you over there.” She points at a spot by the wall a few steps away, a safe distance away from the crowd in the room.

“I love you!” Dahyun waves, shouting as if she was seeing Mina off into one of her private jets again. 

Mina can’t help but feel a flutter in her chest. She doesn’t _shout_ her reply because her loudest is just Dahyun’s speaking voice, but she says it still, however futile it is, even though Dahyun doesn’t hear it amidst the noise of the room. 

“I love you too.”

_I can’t believe I’m so lucky I have you._

***

“Can you believe you were like _that_ before?” 

Sana can’t figure out if her wife means pleasantries or ill with the way she emphasizes _that_ alongside a sour face pursed at the direction of the girls from their daughter’s cheerleading team, dressed in well-coordinated blazer and skirt sets, cheering behind the rowdy boys playing beer pong. 

“Like what?” It’s easy to take it with a clueless loving heart, like what Momo does whenever Sana spews out some random thought, but the wine has been stirring up some mischief in her system and Sana’s energy feel like it’s tripled in the last hour they’ve been in the kitchen monitoring the alcohol for their younger guests. Indulging herself in her wife’s thoughts should be _interesting._

“Like…” Momo trails off, lifting the red solo cup of beer to her lips. She takes a second’s worth of sip before assuming, “Like you’ve got the universe at your feet.”

Sana shrugs nonchalantly, “Well, you did go down on me last night—”

“NOT THAT!” Momo accidentally raises her voice in panic, blood rushing to her face when the entire room suddenly stills. 

Sana can’t help but find her wife’s flustered state adorable. 

“Okay, okay”, she giggles, giving in. “I get what you’re trying to say, Momoring, but I never acted like _that_? You guys have to stop thinking all cheerleaders are bitches. Some of us are really nice."

"Yeah? Like how?" Momo scoffs.

"We do charity work too. I married you, didn’t I?” 

“YA!” The second time Momo’s voice rises, it gets the attention of their daughter now. 

Tzuyu walks up to her mothers as if the short hall connecting the foyer and the kitchen was some kind of Paris Fashion Week runway. 

“Mom, are you okay? We could hear your shouting down the hall.” 

Sana only laughs, running a hand through her daughter’s hair, fixing a nonexistent loose strand. “Don’t worry, sweetie. Your mom’s just being a grouch because she didn’t get to be a cheerleader in high school. Everyone just wants to be like _us_ , huh?” She winks playfully at Tzuyu. 

Momo looks like she’s just about to explode, twitching in her place, unable to defend herself because her _wife_ is already pushing their daughter back to her friends. 

“Anyways, go have fun with your friends again. Tell them your _cooler_ mom said hi.” 

Tzuyu can’t wipe the perplexed frown on her face. Sometimes her moms _really_ confuse her, in the most lovingly amusing way of course. “Okay? Anyways, we’re just going to the living room? The girls wanted to see something.”

“Okay. Be safe, baby.” Sana dotes at her child, smiling fondly. “Your mom and I will just be here if you need anything.” 

Tzuyu nods before walking back to the foyer where her other friends are waiting. Once Sana and Momo are left alone again, they immediately fall into a playful banter with each other. 

“What the _hell?_ I never said I wanted to be like—” 

“Oh come on, honey.” Sana nudges her wife softly by the shoulders. “Are we still going to talk about _cheerleaders?_ ” 

“Now Tzuyu’s gonna think her mom’s a loser!” Momo huffs bitterly, as if just the thought of it was the end of the world already. 

She walks over to the beverage cooler behind them, probably to nurse another root beer to dampen her mood. Sana follows behind her closely, but before she can even say anything to pacify her sulky wife, another voice interrupts them. 

“Sana? Momo?”

The couple recognizes that voice. 

They turn around to face Jennie Kim, in all the glory of her shining tweed dress and party coordinator mode. 

“Have you guys seen Nayeon?” 

“Oh? They’re here already?” Sana’s smile is wiped away by a small frown. “No, we haven’t seen them yet. Is something wrong?” 

“No, nothing.” Jennie shakes her head, shrugging it off. “By the way, you guys might want to head out? I think Dahyun’s going to play the piano. I saw her preparing on my way here.” 

Just like that, Momo’s sulky mood is wiped away, replaced by a glistening smile. In her excitement–because, apparently, behind Sana’s heavenly voice and Tzuyu’s laughter, her next favorite sound in the entire universe is Dahyun’s playing–Momo almost spills the root beer on herself. 

She tugs at Sana’s hand desperately, as if they hadn’t been bickering a few seconds ago. “Come on, come on! We _need_ to hear Dubu play!”

Sana just laughs it off. She lets herself get whisked away to the crowded living room. 

They’re just in time as Dahyun begins introducing her first song of the night. 

“This is for all those who believe in a force as great and powerful as _love_ ." She announces in a way that feels like she’s in a big concert and not a house party. _Very Dahyun-like._

Sana and Momo stand by the other end of the living room, far enough that they can barely see Dahyun when she sits down in front of their piano. They still hear everything very clearly though. 

From where they’re standing, they can see the entire main room and those watching by the mezzanine. 

Sana takes a good look around the house, unable to help the smile on her lips when she sees how everyone stops in what they’re doing just to watch and witness Dahyun playing the piano.

With her height, she spots Mina far by the other end of the room, watching her wife from behind. Sana roams her eyes again. She sees Jihyo and Daniel walk in through the main entrance, the aforementioned sporting a frown Sana doesn’t know how to feel about. _I’m just gonna ask later._

_Mina and Dahyun are here._

_Jihyo and Daniel too._

_Where the hell is Nayeon again?_

In that exact moment, Sana feels her wife tug at their intertwined hands. 

“What?” She whispers under her breath, knowing the room is silently readying themselves for Dahyun’s playing. 

Momo doesn’t say anything. She actually looks like she’s seen a ghost. Eyes wide, jaw slacked. Sana can feel her grip tightening around her hand. In her concern, she looks over at the direction her wife is gaping at, somewhere in the trajectory of the staircase. 

Nothing’s remotely out of the ordinary. Sana sees a cluster of people walking up to the second floor in a haste, a last-minute resort after realizing the main room was already filled up. 

“What are we looking at?” 

Momo doesn’t answer shortly. She continues looking at _whatever_ it is she’s staring at, and Sana can’t help but check again. She might be missing something—

“Wait a minute.” _Is that—_

“Nayeon and...” 

It can be _anyone._ Anyone can wear a colored polo shirt and tuck it inside a denim skirt. A lot of people in the room have long dark brown hair too. But only one person can have Im Nayeon blindly following behind like an enthralled child, desperately chasing after someone so _unbelievably there._

Sana can’t believe it herself. “...Yoo Jeongyeon?” 

***

“Chaeyoung?” 

It’s Tzuyu’s voice that snaps Chaeyoung out of half-conscious state. 

When she looks up, she’s met with Tzuyu’s warm gaze, brows pinched together in worry. Chaeyoung only realizes then she probably looks like a mess warranting attention. There are dried trails of tears down her face and she’s sitting all alone while everybody else is celebrating in high spirits.

“Are you okay?” 

Chaeyoung feels like a kicked puppy when Tzuyu rushes over to her, fond eyes and mellow voice laced with concern, crouching down in front of her to meet her eyes, completely forgetting all about the people she was walking over with. 

“Are you hurt?” 

In her absentminded state and Tzuyu’s worried one, Chaeyoung surrenders to the warmth of Chou Tzuyu’s presence, of the touch of soft strokes against her flushed cheeks, wiping away at the trails of drying tears. 

She surrenders to the beat of her that does multiple somersaults at the sight of Tzuyu’s gaze on her and the enthralling background of strobe lights. It’s magical and compelling, and her heart does all the other kinds of life-threatening stunts because this situation, the one where she gives in to her feelings, is just as death-defying as doing the hardest one of them all.

“Hey…” Tzuyu whispers because the room is silent enough to be heard with a speaking voice. “Chae? Look at me.” 

_Chae?_

It’s been so long since Chaeyoung heard Tzuyu call her that. 

Now Chaeyoung has no choice but to look at her. And it’s honestly the best and worst decision in her entire life. Because there are stormy planets in Tzuyu’s eyes and she looks at Chaeyoung like she’s the sun. The center of her solar system. The source of life. 

And Chaeyoung. She never thought she’d ever deserve to be looked at that way. 

By Chou Tzuyu no less. 

“Do you need help?” She asks under her breath, in a trembling voice because this is probably so overwhelming for her too. She stands up and takes a look around.“Do you want me to call someone? My moms are probably somewhere here and I can—”

But Chaeyoung grabs her hand before she can even move farther away. 

“Don’t leave, please.” 

When she says it, her voice breaks. Just like the wall she’s been trying to build between her and Tzuyu all this time. Half her heart wishes that Tzuyu doesn’t stay. Doesn’t listen to her. Because building up that wall had taken Chaeyoung so _fucking_ long, had stolen so much from her energy, from her _heart._ But half of it as well, the one hopelessly blinded by the idea of _them_ , _prays_ Tzuyu does listen, does sit down with her and never leave her side. 

Chaeyoung doesn’t know which one to pray for. 

When Tzuyu spares her a look, one that reads past every story in her book, sees through every window in her house, and sits down on the small space left on the ottoman, Chaeyoung can’t help but let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. 

There’s a heaviness in her chest that unfolds, like knots that have been tied up for so long uncoiling. The sigh that escapes her lips is a flutter as gentle as the spring day breeze, and when Tzuyu shifts into the seat, closer to Chaeyoung, the latter can’t help but melt into the warmth she’s longed for, dreamed of, for so long. 

She lets her head rest on Tzuyu’s shoulder and her walls crumble down to pieces. “Stay with me.” 

And even with Tzuyu’s other friends coming back for her, she tells them to go ahead. She stays with Chaeyoung and basks in the comfortable presence of the girl who knew all of her, the girl who made everything less lonely when they’re together. 

Chaeyoung can’t register what the hell is happening in all the other aspects of the universe. There are things she can’t believe are real, and there are things that are too impossible to happen but are happening as she thinks of it. 

But there’s one thing she’s sure of. 

The sun shines better after the rain. Life can be beautiful after the storm too. 

***

Jeongyeon didn’t mean it. 

Like a lot of things that she managed to fuck up in her life, she didn’t mean it. 

The crowd began pouring towards the direction she was trying to get away from, in a strong current that felt like she was trying to cross the mouth of the ocean. Everyone was just moving in too fast, shoving their ways into the main room, and Jeongyeon couldn’t hold her own ground, she ended up bumping someone too. 

Everything’s just happening _way_ too fast. 

And she’s moving way too fast too. Like she’s trying to run away from something. _Someone._

Maybe it’s because there’s a strangely _familiar_ kid she’s oddly compelled to take care of and be responsible for, waiting for her; and that kid looked at her like they had spent an eternity of years together, like in some alternate universe, they knew each other and meant so much more than strangers to one another. 

Maybe it’s also because the strangely familiar kid, dressed in a striped red and black long sleeve, looked a little bit like...like the little girl she left behind. The little girl who was the prettiest flower in the universe. And probably, wherever that little girl is, her mother is too. 

And more than anything else, Jeongyeon knows they deserve a better first encounter again. Because it’s been nineteen years. And they have been good people. It’s been a long time and they deserve something happy too. 

So yes, she’s running away. Because the last one is the reason why. Because, at the fraction of a second where Jeongyeon made the mistake of looking back at the person she bumped into, she saw _her._

And Nayeon shouldn’t see Jeongyeon like this. Like she’s in a hurry, and uncertain, and _absolutely_ unprepared. Nayeon doesn’t deserve this. Not when they’ve spent _years_ preparing for this one moment, when the universe decides to let them meet again. 

Jeongyeon’s going to run now.

Where? She doesn’t have any _fucking_ idea. 

She purposely drags herself to the more crowded spaces just to lose her trail. After much shoving and incoherent gasps because _oh!? Was that Yoo Jeongyeon?!_ She ends up at the foot of the grandiose staircase leading to the mezzanine. There are a lot of people rushing to go up just as a voice– _was that Dahyun??_ –makes an announcement about a song performance. _Definitely Dahyun._

Jeongyeon walks faster, tries to fit into the spaces of people too slow. She needs to get away.

She needs to _leave._

Nayeon doesn’t deserve to see her like this. She doesn’t—

“YOO JEONGYEON!” 

Really, Jeongyeon shouldn’t be this fickle. She’s spent nearly twenty years building herself up again for this one moment in time. 

Is the universe really putting it all to waste? 

Because Jeongyeon, for the _fucking life of her_ , stops. 

She just stops. Finally reaching calmer waters, she stops.

And god forbid she turns around. _No. Just no._

"Jeongyeon? Is it really you?"

But she does. Jeongyeon turns around.

And there, in the flesh, is Im Nayeon. 

After what feels like an eternity. 

Jeongyeon forgets how to breathe. 

***

Dahyun pretends there’s a mic and she’s in a concert hall. “This is the song I first heard when I realized I was in love with the coolest person in the room. She’s my wife now.” 

Laughter bubbles within the audience, followed by a few celebratory howling from Jackson Wang. 

A second of silence follows after that. A moment of anticipation in the room. 

Dahyun takes a deep breath.

And then, the first key is strung. 

The heavens spill in the melodies that fill the silence. 

Everyone knows the song. It’s the one about a love so great, even the heavens and the universe couldn’t do anything about it. 

Everyone knows the song. 

It’s Dahyun’s favorite.

***

It feels like the whole universe is throwing everything to stop her. 

She can barely see through the spasmic strobe lights and the poorly lit room. She pushes through the crowd and wills herself to focus on the woman walking away. She walks faster to catch up.

(It knows, Im Nayeon is a lot of things, but she does not run after anyone.)

Someone nudges against her shoulder forcefully. It hurts. Someone accidentally on her shoes more than once. She can feel a blister already forming with every step she takes. Nayeon could feel her patience wearing thin. Something inside of her was on the verge of blowing up.

(It knows, Im Nayeon is forgiving, but she has the patience of a spoiled child.)

Nayeon thinks she’s gone completely mad for doing this. With no assurance whatsoever, she’s relying on her gut intuition and following someone just because she looks like the person Nayeon thinks she is. Blindly hoping she is.

(It knows, Im Nayeon is strong, but she also has a weak point. )

The moment feels like sand slipping through her fingers no matter how tight she holds on to it. Nayeon feels her last thread of hope and patience snapping. She musters up all the energy left inside of her and uses her last resort. 

(It knows. It’s been _years._ But Im Nayeon’s heart only beats for one person.)

“YOO JEONGYEON!”

A part of Nayeon wishes she’s wrong. This isn’t Jeongyeon. She can’t be this woman walking away.

“Jeongyeon? Is it really you?” 

A part of Nayeon hopes. This isn’t _her_ Jeongyeon. _Don’t look back. Don’t turn around._

She turns around. 

***

Jeongyeon didn’t mean it. 

For her eyes to swell with tears, glisten like the stars that shine a thousand times brighter when she’s with Im Nayeon. She didn’t mean it when raw, pent-up emotions that have been nearly twenty years in the making, all dissolve into the warm, pinpricks of tears forming around her eyes. 

Her chest tightens and her mind can’t seem to comprehend how someone who used to be in her dreams, someone she could only _pray_ of getting to hold again, is finally there. In front of her. A few steps away.

Jeongyeon can feel the breath rushing out of her lungs. She can feel her insides coiling into inescapable knots and she’s on a standstill. 

She’s feeling _everything_ all at once. 

It’s her own two feet who takes the first step. 

Suddenly, everything else is muffled out. Suddenly, they’re back in their own universe, in their own world again. Like they’re not two adult women nearing their forties, in a party themed their youth, walking to each other like it’s just them in the room. 

Nayeon is breathtaking.

She takes another step close. 

Jeongyeon’s words spill like a breathless prayer. “...Nayeon?” 

It feels too surreal to take in the embodiment of all her dreams. Her walls come crumbling down as fast as the tears that fall down her face. Her heart is breaking in ten different ways and one more when Nayeon doesn’t say a word. 

Instead, she closes the distance between them and melts into the overwhelming presence and familiar warmth she’s missed out on for _so long_. 

Jeongyeon feels numb and knocked out of her breath all at once but her body moves into a natural response, something that feels like an innate reaction whenever it’s Nayeon against her, all warm and soft and beautiful and breathtaking Im Nayeon. 

She wraps her arms around Nayeon’s body and pulls her in. She takes in the dream took too long to come true. She takes in the person she’s wished for her entire life. She takes in the feeling of this, of everything all at once and how it’s Nayeon. It’s her. _It’s really her._

Jeongyeon realizes only then.

She’s finally home. 

***

Nayeon doesn’t care about the world. She doesn’t care about the eyes that are witnessing something as intimate as this. She doesn’t care that she’s a grown woman running over to the love of her life. She doesn’t care about anything else because Jeongyeon’s here. _She’s here._

“It’s you.” She feels bad for ruining Jeongyeon’s shirt with her tears but she can’t let go now. She holds on to Jeongyeon as if she’s sand slipping through her fingers. Nayeon _won’t_ let go now. “It’s really you.” 

When Jeongyeon wraps her arms around her again, like they used to, where they belong to, Nayeon melts even more. 

They stay in each other’s arms through the intensity of the moment, taking in the realization that this is _them_ . This is Nayeon and Jeongyeon. After so many years. _And it’s still us._

The universe only gets to interrupt when Nayeon feels the desire to make sure it’s real. That this isn’t some play at her mind again. When she pulls away, she doesn’t remove her arms from Jeongyeon. She holds her at arm’s length and looks at her intently. 

Longer hair, now dyed to its natural dark brown. Slightly plumper build, all in the right places. Cheeks fuller and flushed with a shade of pink. Dark circles under her eyes poorly masked by the concealer. 

“Are you checking me for damage and defects?” Jeongyeon snorts, pulling her arm away to run a hand down Nayeon’s tousled hair. “I’m non-refundable item, just so you know–”

“Jeongyeon, I’m not married.” Nayeon can’t help but let her emotions take control over her rationality. Her mind is running on _Jeongyeon, Jeongyeon, Jeongyeon_ and nothing of substance might come out of her mouth after this so Nayeon can’t forget to say that. 

“Oh?” Jeongyeon looks taken aback. She is, probably. Who would expect to be greeted with this after a lengthy, emotional moment spent hugging each other? “Um...I don’t know what to say…” 

Nayeon thinks of all the missed chances just because she and Jeongyeon didn’t communicate properly with each other. She thinks of the _years_ spent and wasted without one another just because they didn’t talk it out. She doesn’t want that _ever_ again. 

“Please don’t have somebody waiting on you.” _The wedding on Chaeyoung’s 9th birthday. Please don’t tell me that was yours._

Jeongyeon is quiet. As if on a pause, thinking of her answer. Nayeon...Nayeon is ready to learn how to be content with what she has now. Even though she wishes for something more, if this really is what’s meant to be for her, then all that matters is Jeongyeon’s back in her arms again. 

When it takes too long for Jeongyeon to reply, Nayeon can’t help but regard her silence as her answer. She pulls Jeongyeon back into a hug, afraid to hear her fear in words. She buries herself in the embrace and feels the air filling up her lungs again. “You know what? I don’t care. You’re back. That’s...that’s enough for me—”

“I don’t have anyone, Nayeon.” Jeongyeon lets herself melt in Nayeon’s arms. “I could never love anyone after you.” 

Truth be told, Jeongyeon never did. Her heart never knew how to love anyone else that wasn’t Im Nayeon. She told herself she could, that she would try. But it all ended up as hopeless _what ifs._

At the end of the day, her heart would come back for Nayeon and Nayeon only. No other person could ever make her feel the same way as Nayeon did. So Jeongyeon came back. For this. For them. 

***

Everything’s happening way too fast. 

But Jeongyeon won’t have it any other way.

Some time after the piano stops performing and the audience erupts into a round of applause, Nayeon manages to pull Jeongyeon back downstairs, where the crowd parts in her wake. A lot happens before Jeongyeon is even given the time to register it. 

The first thing she hears–that pierces through her eardrums, to be frank–is Sana and Momo’s megaphone voices. “YOO JEONGYEON!”

And then Jeongyeon is knocked out of her breath for the nth time that night, by a rather forceful collision that is the couple’s excruciating _welcoming_ embrace. 

“UNNIE!” 

“Dahyunnie, your ankle. Don’t run—” 

“UNNIE!” Dahyun still runs towards her unnie, almost trips on her way with her other ankle. Mina looks like she just had her heart drop for a few seconds. 

Dahyun doesn’t care. She jumps at Jeongyeon like they haven’t seen each other the most, even though they do see each other often, more than with the others. “I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!” 

Mina appears behind her, with a tight-lipped smile, ever so warm and beautiful. Jeongyeon can’t help but smile at her back. 

It takes her wife to pull Dahyun away. She may be smaller but Kim Dahyun is a fervent hugger. “It’s my turn, honey.”

Jeongyeon can’t help but chuckle at the couple. She gives Mina a long overdue hug, a big _thank you_ for everything she’s done not only for her but for _everyone._ Before they pull away, Jeongyeon presses a chaste kiss on the crown of Mina’s head. “Thank you so much, Minari.” 

Jihyo appears before either one of the two could even say anything. 

“YA!” Jeongyeon honestly can’t even feel her ears anymore. Jihyo marches towards her with tear-stricken eyes, and Jeongyeon feels a surge of emotions in her stomach at the sight of her best friend again, but then she proceeds to hit her on the arm and those emotions are immediately replaced with pain and a scowl. “Why are you hitting me!?”

Jihyo doesn’t stop hitting her. “Why are you here!?” 

She wants to portray anguish but her voice breaks halfway and Jihyo...Jihyo was never a good actress. 

Jeongyeon sighs. She grabs Jihyo by the arm and pulls her into a warm embrace. She feels Jihyo’s tears soak through her shirt. 

“Shh...I’m here.” At the back of Jeongyeon’s mind, she briefly wonders how it’s possible all these people seem to care too much about her. She doesn’t even do that to herself. She doesn’t think she deserves it enough. But here they are, her best friends in the whole wide world, giving so much of them to her. 

“I’m so sorry for being late, Jihyo-ya.” 

Jihyo is sniffing when she pulls away, cheeks stained with trails of tears, nose a shade of red. “You bitch.” She growls, glaring up at her friend. Jeongyeon can’t help but laugh at her. “You didn’t even leave a number to call or reach out to! What kind of best friend would do that!?”

Jihyo throws a mean punch at Jeongyeon’s arm again, this one harder than the others, as if she’s mustered all the slaps she ever wanted to give Jeongyeon and poured them into it, and the former soccer player can’t help but flinch away. 

“Ow!” She rubs at her arm. At this point Jihyo could be a heavyweight boxing champion. 

“That’s what you get!” Jihyo wipes at her tears away. 

“I’m going to get injured with— _wait._ ” Something suddenly flashes in Jeongyeon’s mind. Her eyes grow wide in absolute horror. “Oh my god! The kid! I forgot about her!” 

Nayeon appears from behind her, mirroring the exact appalled frown. “What kid!? Whose kid!?”

“There was a kid! Oh my god!” Jeongyeon feels frantic, roaming her eyes around the room of dissipating people, searching for the familiar face of the kid from earlier. “ I told her I’d call for help. She was injured, I think? She’s the reason why I was in a hurry trying to look for someone!” 

“You left her unattended?!” The mother instincts in Nayeon is working up at almost every opportunity that involves a kid. “Why would you do that?!”

“I don’t know!” Jeongyeon exclaims, exasperated. “I was scared! She was tearing up and she looked _so_ familiar but I couldn’t remember who she was!”

“Yoo Jeongyeon, you dimwit!” Jihyo jabs her at the back, emerging from beside Nayeon. “What does the kid look like? I _swear_ to god, Jeongyeon. It’s your first time back and you’re already going to get in trouble! We can’t _dance_ that away again.” 

Jeongyeon tries to ignore Jihyo’s peltering. She stands on her tippy-toes and scans around for the kid. She’s no longer in the seat Jeongyeon left her in. Judging by Sana and Momo’s enormous house, she might not even be able to find the kid again and— _OH!_

“THERE SHE IS!” Jeongyeon points at the direction of the garden, the kid together with a taller girl walking over to the main room—wait, that’s Sana and Momo’s little girl! Not so little anymore, apparently...Jeongyeon used to see pictures of Tzuyu on the news because of her moms. 

“Never mind. I think she’s okay…” They look sweet and adorable, holding hands. _Oh my god. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree._ They remind her of a youthful and love-blinded Jeongyeon and Nayeon back in the days. 

“She’s with her girlfriend…” 

“GIRLFRIEND!? Let me see!” Nayeon pushes her aside just to stand in the same place, as if that would help her cause. “Where are they?!”

Tzuyu and the kid emerge from the crowd moving away. Jeongyeon feels envious how it’s much easier for kids nowadays to just publicly display their affection. Back in her time, she and Nayeon could only do so much as hold hands and even with that, the entire school was up their asses already. Their safe haven was always their dorm and with the other girls. 

“Oh! Sweetie!” Nayeon waves over at someone. Jeongyeon feels her brows furrow at the term. _Sweetie? I thought she wasn’t—_

It’s the kid who walks over to Nayeon’s side, Nayeon wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Jeongyeon, this is Chaeyoung. Honey, this is—”

“The love of your life, mom.” The kid– _Chaeyoung–_ finishes. “We all know.” 

Jeongyeon can feel her heart burst inside of her. “You’re...you’re... _strawberry kid?”_

She doesn’t know why there’s suddenly an upsurge of her tears but she can’t help it. The grown up girl standing before her used to be the baby she sang lullabies to and read stories for, inside Nayeon’s stomach. She was her partner-in-crime whenever Nayeon was in a mood. She’s the baby Jeongyeon once held in her arms and saw the entire universe in, felt the most alive with; she’s the most beautiful flower Jeongyeon has ever seen her entire life. 

_This is her now._

“You’re...you’re so beautiful.” _This is the kid that is going to be her universe._ “Can I hug you?” 

Chaeyoung doesn’t answer. She sinks in the arms she’s been wishing to be in ever since her sixth birthday. Her other mommy. 

She’s hugged her Jeongyeon unnie countless times in the past but this, this is the moment all the trouble had been about. Her aunts watch from behind, Tzuyu with her moms, looking all fondly. Her mother stands and hopelessly wipes at the tears attempting to fall down her face. 

This is the moment Chaeyoung prayed for her entire life

This is the day they all come home again. 

***

Everyone waits for _the_ moment. The one where everyone gets a happy ending. 

It’s achieved in many kinds of ways. It can end with a kiss, of the knight-in-the-shining-armor and the princess, or with the one where the prince that turned into a frog. It can end with the little cub becoming King of the Jungle or with someone freezing to death because their unsinkable ship sunk in the cold ocean waters. 

The happy ending can happen in a lot of ways. 

Theirs come in the form of a _stupid_ \--adorable, Chaeyoung and Tzuyu think--reunion performance.

None of the girls want to tolerate Jackson Wang’s drunken ass even though the crowd is backing him up–the same crowd that _magically_ gathered back in the main room after Jackson dared the kids doing some TikTok moves a _dance-off_ just to “show them how it’s really done”.

No one was planning to give in. Because they’re all successful and mature women and they won’t let themselves be carried away by another one of Jackson’s antics. No. They’re all respectable ladies now. It’s all fun and games...that is until one of the kids talked about respecting old people and Jihyo lost _her cool._ (“WHO ARE YOU CALLING OLD!?”)

This is why they’re here now. On the _interactive_ LED dance floor, preparing to dance their old award-winning I Want You Back performance. 

“We are _not_ doing this.” Jeongyeon groans because really, it hasn’t even been an entire hour since they all found out she’s back and yet here they were, stretching their limbs out and seriously discussing old positions and dance steps. 

“Come on, unnieee~” Dahyun uses _that_ tone, hugging Jeongyeon’s arm and batting her lashes at her. It doesn’t work. Jeongyeon only raises a brow and frowns even more.

Dahyun gives up with a sigh. “If we don’t do this, Jihyo unnie is going to _flip_.” The girl is aggressively stretching her arms out and twisting her neck by the corner, Daniel cheering her on already. 

“Easy for _you_ to say! You’re not dancing with us!” Jeongyeon exclaims exasperatedly, getting even more worried by each passing second where no one backs out. It feels like they’re seriously getting ready for a bloody battle with what, _TikTok kids?_

“I’m recovering with my ankle.” Dahyun sticks her foot out, feigning a pout. She points over to the piano already prepared, “Besides, I’ll play that and dance a little too.” 

Jeongyeon groans. This really can’t be happening, right? Is no one _really_ going to be the bigger person here and just accept defeat? They _are_ nearing their forties already...

“Suck it up, Yoo.” Jihyo chides, appearing behind Jeongyeon with a hard glare. “Go to your place.” 

“ _You_ , of all people, are starting this, Ji? I am _so_ disappointed in—”

“GO TO YOUR PLACE!”

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry. Okay.” Jeongyeon cowers away, padding over to her position somewhere in between Sana and Nayeon in their starting line (because she was the delinquent member who made more mistakes than she danced the correct ones and Nayeon planned to _hide_ that by having her dance with them)

Dahyun already walks over to the piano and waits for her cue. 

Once everyone’s in position, their leader in front, Jihyo catches the eye of the trembling kid who called them _old_ , forced to sit in front beside a visibly _excited_ Jackson Wang, and sneers at him with much, _much_ contempt. “Watch and learn, kid.” 

Dahyun begins playing. 

***

Chaeyoung understands that there are a multitude of factors as to why things happen the way they did. The key player is their cardiovascular system and state of well-maintenance. Age is there too. And probably memory, considering the last time they performed together was in 1998. 

But it doesn’t matter now. They already won that competition during their time. 

It doesn’t matter that only aunt Mina is able to finish the entire performance gracefully. She’s been performing her entire life, she’s used to it. It doesn’t matter that her aunt Sana and aunt Momo give up halfway into the performance, laughing their stomachs off and falling on the floor instead of dancing. It doesn’t matter that her mothers and aunt Jihyo don’t remember more than _half_ of the steps and just dance everything to the beat, guessing everything. 

It doesn’t matter now. Everyone still applauds them for even thinking of performing the old thing again. They’re let off the hook because aunt Jihyo immediately blames everything for their lack of practices. 

It’s the moment _after_ that matters. The one where Chaeyoung’s squished in her mother’s embrace while Jeongyeon is standing in her other side, and Dahyun is making everyone laugh again with another whimsical remark at their performance and how her _amazing wife_ Mina was the only one doing it right.

It’s the moment _after_ when Chaeyoung becomes truly convinced of another much more powerful existence. More powerful than time or the heavens. 

When they gather around to look at a video someone captured of their performance, tightly knitted together like they’ve been doing this for a long time, coexisting in the same space, being together past, present, future, Chaeyoung finally figures out the invincible force that drives the universe insane, the powerful existence that, with proper execution, can even conquer time and everything else. 

Chaeyoung looks at the people around her. Their smiles, their laughter. She puts a name to this undefeatable force. 

She calls it _Love._

It was _love_ that brought her back. 

It was _love_ that reunited everyone. 

It's _love_ that will keep them together again.

* * *

_(They're far too domestic for a pair of high school graduates, one heavily pregnant and the other one just deadass exhausted._

_"Jeong, I can't sleep."_

_The easier way out is to pretend she's really asleep and just let Nayeon suffer on her own. That's what Jeongyeon would have done if this were an ordinary night in the dorms and her girlfriend is just having another one of her more reckless nights._

_But no, this isn't one of those. Because Nayeon is a different person at night, someone full of thoughts and things to say, and it's the only time she lets her soul actually breathe. And she's also a few weeks away from her due date, so... Jeongyeon is not_ that _evil to let her girlfriend suffer alone._

_She turns on the bed to face the sulky girl, expecting Nayeon to already be lying down, only to be greeted with the sight of her girlfriend sitting up with a pillow on her lap, legs dangling on the edge of her bed, looking at her with such sad eyes._

_Jeongyeon can’t help but feel an ache seeing Nayeon’s eyes like that._

_“What are you thinking about?” She asks drowsily, unable to hide the sleep from her tone._

_“You’re leaving tomorrow.”_

_Jeongyeon really should have known it would be about this. Of course it would. No matter how long she and Nayeon had prepared and talked about her leaving tomorrow for California._

_“Yes, I am.” Still, it doesn’t warrant any sort of grumpy reaction. Jeongyeon moves over her covers and crosses the small distance between her bed and Nayeon’s. She carefully slips under Nayeon’s purple blanket and sits beside her, criss-crossed. “Do you want to talk about it?”_

_“No.” Nayeon rests her head on Jeongyeon’s shoulder. “I want you to promise me something.”_

_“What?”_

_Nayeon moves the pillow on her lap over to Jeongyeon’s. It’s only then Jeongyeon sees the yellow post-it note and pen ready by the side. “What’s this?”_

_On it is a distinguishable chicken scratch handwriting Jeongyeon recognizes is her girlfriend’s handwriting, with words written on the post-it,_

**No more leaving and running. I, Im Nayeon, will stay forever with you. My partner in everything, Yoo Kyungwan.**   
**4-9-99**

_“You have to make one too and promise me the same.”_

_“Why’d you have to use my old ugly name?” Jeongyeon scowls, feels a shudder just by reading it in her head._

_Nayeon rolls her eyes. “Just make one!”_

_“Okay, okay…” Jeongyeon sighs, tearing off the post-it for a new paper to write on. “No more leaving and running. I, Yoo_ Jeongyeon _, will stay forever with you. My partner in everything, Im Nayeon. Signed, April 9, 1999.”_

_“Promise me you’ll come back too.”_

_Jeongyeon looks up. Suddenly, she’s met with Nayeon’s eyes, even sadder and glistening with tears. She lifts a hand up to hold her, but Nayeon moves away immediately. “Promise me!”_

_She’s crying now and Jeongyeon... Jeongyeon can’t stand seeing Nayeon like this._

_“Promise that you’ll come back to me.” She sniffs, tears streaming down her face rapidly now. “That you’ll come back to us.”_

_Jeongyeon can’t help but feel her eyes wet with tears too, unable to hold back her own emotions. She’s been keeping them for a while now, because one emotional pregnant girl is enough for the entire group already. She doesn’t want to add up to their headaches too. But seeing Nayeon like this, far away from the strong front she’s mastered by now because of her situation, it just breaks Jeongyeon all over again._

_“Come here…” She reaches out for the girl, gently pulling her close into a warm embrace that feels all too much like it’s going to be the last one for a while. Jeongyeon presses her lips on Nayeon’s forehead. “I’ll come back.”_

_“Promise?” Nayeon pulls away, looking into her eyes with all the love and longing in the world._

_Jeongyeon kisses them close. “I don’t think there will ever be a universe where I won’t come back to you.” )_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> n e wayz, this is the end. thank you everyone so much! i'm sorry if i never got to reply to your comment :(( i read them all! you can always dm me in twt (@jenniesteddy) there are bigger chances of me replying there than here sorry huhu THANK YOU!! ALL SO MUCH!! 
> 
> p.s. technically this isn't the end because there will be an epilogue i'll have up a few days from now. it's going to be a special day for me (no, its not my birthday) and whoever takes a guess will have bragging rights! yay! kidding haha anyways, yes, there will be an epilogue. 
> 
> because i want to tie up everything into a beautiful ending knot haha
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH!
> 
> also, please support my ko-fi huhu the smallest tips are still very much appreciated huhu https://ko-fi.com/yournabi


	17. wishes granted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All that’s left to do now is welcome a new, brighter chapter of her life with the people she loves the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :((

"Don't do it, Yerim! We're gonna get in trouble!"

Son Chaeyoung is not the smartest person in the room, but it shouldn't take a genius to know that the answer to the equation **new driver Kang Yerim + a stupid dare + a smoking hot Ferrari Roma** is _never_ a good thing.

"Plug my playlist in, Chaeng."

What's even worse is how Chaeyoung managed to tag herself along the trouble almost naturally. Somehow, everyone who knows them around the campus thinks they're some kind of _buy one get one_ package, and for whatever trouble one would get, the other would _always_ be included in the narrative–one way or another.

"I am _not_ going to plug your stupid playlist in!"

Tonight is a whole new level of stupidity, though. Really, Chaeyoung is wholly questioning the decisions she's made that led her to this exact moment. It was just a get together with the music club she and Yerim signed up for during the freshman week orientations. A couple of drinks here and there, held at a barbecue place outside campus vicinity.

None of them expected a bunch of big-headed, _asshole_ boys tagging along and causing trouble. A keg of drinks in and they suddenly feel superior enough to pick on the two girls sitting at the far end of the table, seemingly inconspicuous with their pocket-sized heights and own conversation going on.

Words out there are students in their block with unconventional family set-ups; both have–from the unbecoming mouths of the ugly guys themselves who spread the malicious–pretty famous _MILFs_ as moms. 

Everything just happens way too fast for Chaeyoung to even comprehend. They're suddenly getting shoved outside the barbecue place by the drunken crowd of college students, getting dared to drag race against the leader of the group of jerks.

"Play The Black Eyed Peas, Pump it. I need a power song if we're gonna do this shit right."

If there is _one_ thing everyone should know about Chaeyoung's tiny (same height) best friend, it's to **_never_ ** taunt her.

These boys are just stupid enough to do exactly that. Not to mention, dare Yerim when she drives her mom's Ferrari.

"Yerim, _no."_

Chaeyoung's stupid too. For sitting shotgun and picking herself up a VIP ticket to all of this mess. The easy way out of this would be to just let Yerim take the blame and watch from the sidelines as her best friend dives into _another_ sea of trouble all by herself. 

But things don’t work that way. Ever since their first day in high school, when Chaeyoung _accidentally_ tripped and threw her slushy at a direction that was right at Kang Yerim’s face, they have been an inseparable pair, a twin-tornado of trouble and mischief. They were pretty much the real-life equivalent of Sokka and Katara’s crackhead sibling relationship. 

So no, Chaeyoung won’t let her best friend die alone in this. She’ll happily ride the gondola to her death together with Kang Yerim. Besides, what’s worse than dying in a car crash because of Kang Yerim’s amateur driving skills? Their mothers _finding out_ they died in a car crash because of their stupidity. 

"Chaeyoung, _yes."_

"Do you even know how to drive this thing?!" Chaeyoung fumbles with the seatbelt, unable to lock it in place with the dread stirring inside of her, rendering her hands useless with almost everything else _but_ the stupid Spotify playlist waiting to be played on the luxurious stereo system in front of them.

Somehow, Chaeyoung feels like she needs five more vehicle safety measures to fully secure herself down. A hold on the handle and a seat belt around her doesn't feel safe enough for the death-defying stunt Yerim is about to pull off.

"Pfft, of course?" Yerim scoffs, pressing down on the pedal to let the engine aggressively roar to life, showing off to Chaeyoung and the dudes watching outside the tinted windows. "I earned my driver's license because I was _amazing,_ Chae.”

It’s hard to believe so when Yerim learned how to drive from a woman who managed through a racing car simulation. Chaeyoung means no offense to Mrs. Seulgi Kang. She’s cool. But this situation isn’t. 

“YERIM, I _REALLY_ THINK WE SHOULD CONSIDER ANOTHER OPTION THAN—”

“OH! IT’S STARTING!” Yerim interjects, changing gears as fast as the atmosphere shifts into something else entirely, terror and exhilaration all at the same time. 

She steps down on the pedal again, the engine bellows louder than ever. Chaeyoung would have found it amazing how Yerim’s able to reach it now if only her mind wasn’t too focused on the way her heart literally feels like it just dropped to her stomach.

She immediately latches onto the handles for dear life, facing in front, to a guy standing a few feet away in between the two cars roaring their engines like it was a damned noise-off and not a drag race, holding up two scarves in the air while the crowd began counting down. 

Honestly, Chaeyoung never knew Korea had this much freeway space. She always thought drag races only ever existed in Fast and Furious movies. 

Of course she’d have a taste of something impossible whenever she’s with Kang Yerim. 

The noise of the people outside are like alarm bells in Chaeyoung’s head, ringing in her ears loud and enough to cause a pounding headache. In the face of her impending doom, her body plummets into a fight or flight response. Her nails flicker white with how tight she holds onto the handles, eyes shut to a forceful close as Chaeyoung imagines rainbows and Tzuyu instead of Yerim and their looming deaths. 

Around her, the crowd arrives at the last three counts ( _how long have been counting?!)_ and Chaeyoung can hear her heart hammering inside, growing stronger and faster by the second. 

It doesn’t help that the upbeat song finally begins playing in an aggressive full-on, bass-boosted mode, piercing through the last remaining calm in Chaeyoung’s system. The familiar tightened beat plays louder than the noises outside or the roaring of the Ferrari’s engine. 

_Three…_

Chaeyoung gulps. 

_Two…_

She wonders if her health insurance can cover this up. 

_One…_

“GO!”

“AAAAAAAAAAH!”

***

(So Chaeyoung’s got it wrong. 

The worst thing isn’t their mothers finding out they just landed themselves a personal segment and breaking record in Dumb Ways to Die as the _ultimate dumbest way_ _to literally die_ , it’s their mothers finding out they _almost_ did cease to exist because of their stupidity. 

Because Yerim apparently has better driving skills now than the last time she let Chaeyoung ride with her (where they almost hit an old lady), they do win the drag race against the douchebag and his stupid Tesla. He cowardly runs away with his crew of equally-stupid men after Yerim threatens to call her mother’s (non-existent) security team at them, and the dumb and dumber duo celebrate their victory with hurrays in front of a convenience store somewhere down the sketchier end of the street.

Their hurrah only lasts for a few seconds before the blaring of Kang Yerim’s ringtone resounds, the incoherent stammering of Nicki Minaj’s Roman Holiday, and Yerim skips over gleefully to check, only to find out it’s her mother calling in _FaceTime._

_The scarier Mrs. Kang._

Their dumb death isn’t from a dare-induced accident. It’s caused by Yerim’s panicking and failure to answer the call.)

***

Im Nayeon has lived long enough to know event preparations include anticipating any kind of weather blitz. Pellets of frozen rain? A spontaneous off-season snowstorm? Excruciating off-the-charts heat? The gods playing bowling in the heavens? Name it, Nayeon’s got it all under control.

When the entire day begins and continues on gloomy with heavy, grey clouds staring down like ticking bombs, ready to blow up with torrential rain, the other girls–namely Sana and Momo–are unfortunately forced to cancel the disco ride and all the other outdoor festivities they rented out for the special day. 

(Nayeon had told the two other couples _not_ to spend outrageously on the event. It’s just going to be a small and simple gathering, a surprise party for their special birthday girl. 

Ultimately, no one listens.) 

The remains of her best friends’ failed extravagance are left to Nayeon’s responsibility as she runs last-minute calls for the newly-pronounced _indoor_ event. What had been planned as a carnival-themed birthday bash of 100+ guests ends up as a simple rented-out restaurant with less than twenty special people, much to Sana and Mina’s dismay. 

(“We can use the rides next time, don’t worry. Maybe on her 21st birthday?”) 

From outside the window of her car, Nayeon looks up and sees the freckles of the skies glimmering, perfectly shining down on her. Maybe it was for the best it had been threateningly gloomy the entire day. If the sun was out, Nayeon’s sure they would still go along with Sana's idea of a profligate birthday party for Chaeyoung’s 20th. 

In a clever and indirect manner, this was heaven's way of siding with Nayeon. 

Now she has to make the most of it.

Deux Diner still stands open in all its customer-less glory, just as Nayeon anticipates it to be. 

The glass windows are covered with patches of newspaper taped in a collage to mask the happenings inside. Nayeon had thought of just putting up curtains but Dahyun had suggested the newspapers because it was _artsy_ (“It’s a Chaeyoung thing, you know?”) and she had an entire room filled with old newspapers because Mina had a subscription and Dahyun just didn’t have the heart in her to throw them away. They were all put to use today. 

Warm white light seeps through the crevices of the newspaper strips. If Nayeon stops and looks closer, she can actually see the shadow of people moving about inside. 

Nayeon parks her new baby, a good ‘ol Palisade (she formally declared it as Chaeyoung’s younger sister to kakao group, resulting into massive havoc and a flood of odd emojis from the younger members of the chat–namely Dahyun and Chaeyoung, who expresses her dismay in the form of Kermit the Frog memes) and gets off, rounding the SUV to pick up the other party materials in the back of the car. 

Nayeon drove around town the entire day, buying balloons and party streamers for the big night. There had been a delegation of tasks within the group but because of unforeseen events (not in Nayeon’s part though), everything had been scraped and everyone was pushed to move in speed, running last-minute errands and preparations. 

It didn’t become a bother though. They were all doing it for the special birthday girl. 

Nayeon trudges across the parking lot to the entrance of the diner, pushing back the glass door open with the help of the box she’s carrying in front of her. She doesn’t see anything ahead with the box of decorating materials covering her entire view, but she navigates through the diner easily because all the chairs have been pushed back, leaving out a safe space in the middle of the room for the party.

It doesn’t take a while before someone _finally_ approaches to help Nayeon with the box. She expects it to be one of the girls (When she left an hour earlier, everyone was helping out in putting up the balloons around the room. It was only Mina who ended up doing most of the task though. Her wife and the older couple got distracted halfway with the helium when one of the balloons accidentally popped) but to Nayeon’s surprise it’s a staff of the diner, a young beautiful girl dressed in the waitress uniform. 

The taller girl, who looks just a few years older than Chaeyoung yet Nayeon recognizes as one of her daughter’s close friends, puts down the box on the nearest table to the wall with the birthday banner. 

When she turns around and asks about needing any more help with the party stuff, Nayeon is granted a better look at the girl. Long dark wavy tresses pulled up to a high ponytail, slender and slim build (perfect for the runway if you’d ask Nayeon herself), and _that_ face. Innocence oozing in the softness of her features yet her eyes, dark hazel and creaseless, can tell a thousand emotions all at once. 

At that moment, for a brief second, Nayeon sees someone else. A remarkable girl who, in a way, pioneered the Yoo Jeongyeon chaos in Im Nayeon’s life. 

“Rosie, right?” Nayeon lets her voice echo around the empty diner, sweet-trickled and soft, just like the girl’s name. “Have you seen the other girls?” 

“They left about a few minutes ago, Miss Im. They said it was already _go time_.” 

Nayeon can’t help but snort at the formalities. She’s allowed Yerim to call her by her first name (to which the younger kid _wholeheartedly_ agreed with, no hesitation whatsoever, and began calling her _Nayeon unnie_ ) and it still feels weird to be called by such respect from someone she already considers like her own daughter. 

“You can just call me Nayeon, Rosie. It’s okay.” She flashes a warm, assuring smile, finding it adorable when Rosie nods immediately and fidgets with the hem of her apron, looking visibly flustered. “Well, I should get going? I still have to pick up the cake at home and check on Chaeyoung’s other mom—"

“Oh wait!” 

Nayeon stops in her steps, halfway into turning around to head out the door. She looks over her shoulders and sees Rosie struggling to untie the apron behind her. 

“Our boss dropped by earlier and wanted to meet you, if that’s okay? To thank you for choosing us to hold Chaeyoungie’s party.” There’s a flicker of hope in Rosie’s eyes as she walks over to the other side of the room where a door stands, displaying a shabby **PERSONNEL ONLY** sign. She holds her hands out, pointing to the room.

Nayeon hesitates. She left her phone in the house and there are still a lot of things to prepare. Not to mention, Jihyo is going to flip when she finds out the cake isn’t done yet.

“Uh…” but there’s a sort of magical charm in the room and when Nayeon glances at the worn-out door, she feels a pull inside of her, like magnetic attraction. She fails to hold out against it. “Sure. But I can’t stay for long.” 

It’s enough for Rosie’s cheeks to puff up as a wide smile makes its way. “It won’t take long, I promise. Follow me, please.” 

Nayeon feels delighted at the sight. She walks over to the door, trailing behind the taller, younger girl who proceeds to knock on the shabby-looking surface. 

A muffled voice resounds from the other side. A female’s. Probably telling them they can come in because that’s exactly what Rosie does. She opens the door wide for her to lean against the wood, enough walking space for Nayeon to enter through. 

She flashes Rosie a smile and a whispered thank you before the girl nods her head in a direction over Nayeon’s shoulders, pulling the door close with her as she leaves shortly after. 

The moment she’s left in the dim room, a voice resounds. Deep and alluring, raspy if Nayeon listens closely. The exact voice of someone who spent a considerable amount of years in their lives trying to prove something by inhaling their own death. 

“Is that you, Im Nayeon?” 

Nayeon turns around to meet the familiar voice. She feels the spark of enigma inside of her go out. She now understands why there had been a mysterious attraction, a magnetic pull. It always happens whenever Nayeon is about to meet someone she long thought was just a part of her past, a chapter she had finished going through. 

Nowadays it constantly feels like Nayeon is skimming through the pages of her youth again. She’s not complaining about it though. It brings a kind of happiness Nayeon always thought only happened once or twice in someone’s life. The kind where you can just sit back and watch the people you love, and be able to just _breathe_ and the smile naturally comes without an ache to your chest. That kind of happiness.

When Nayeon takes in the entirety of the woman before her, mature with the number of years that have stacked over their youth, she feels the familiar lightness fill her inside.

Had this encounter happen a decade earlier, Nayeon wouldn’t have let the smile take over her lips. She wouldn’t have let her feet walk over to the woman standing in front of her, leaning against an unstable-looking desk. 

Nayeon _definitely_ wouldn’t have opened her arms out for an embrace, pulling in the woman with a fleeting sigh. “It’s been a long time, Yerin.”

Baek Yerin looks not a day older than thirty. Enviable porcelain skin with doll-like features, soft and small and crafted with such intricacy, God must have spent more time sculpting her than the general population of the world. Her jet-black hair is still long, in natural waves just like how it has been ever since Nayeon had first laid eyes on her (more like, spat fiery glares at her). 

The only difference is the way she carries herself now. When they pull away from each other, spending a few seconds just smiling at each other, letting the years away from each other settle down in between, Nayeon takes the entirety of Baek Yerin’s presence in. 

_It really is her._

Yerin has traded the pink faux fur coats for a more mature silk blue jumpsuit. In between her fingers no longer sit a roll of ground tobacco but an inconspicuous plain gold ring Nayeon only noticed when Yerin had tucked a few strays of hair behind her ear. 

Nayeon has to bite down on the tickling inclination to ask about it. 

“How long has it been?” Finally, Yerin says something. It’s a half-assed attempt but she displays a good smile to hide it away. It gets awkward when you want to catch up with someone from your youth but all the memories you two share are moments spent ruining each other’s high school lives. 

“A couple of years, tops.” Nayeon replies wryly. They enjoy a good laugh at the sarcasm. 

It feels strange and familiar all at the same time for the both of them. Neither one ever thought this moment would come, where talking to one another no longer was for the sole purpose of fighting and _fighting only._ Back then, the only time Nayeon would think of Yerin was after she watched live-action movies and would consequently be suddenly filled with dramatic vigor. The only face she would picture on the punching bags were of Baek Yerin’s. 

“So…” now the slight discomfort sizzles in. Nayeon suddenly doesn’t know what to do with her hands. She settles with the empty chair in front of the desk. “You never told us you owned Deux. We could have hung out here more often back in high school.” 

The last part should sting because it was never Nayeon’s plan to mention it and effortlessly bring up their quite... _angsty_ teenage years _(Did I use that word right?)_ , but Yerin doesn’t look fazed one bit (or she’s just _really good_ at hiding it) and she even laughs right at the idea in a way it doesn’t make it sound so ludicrous. 

“It was just a recent change of ownership, Nayeon.” Yerin corrects with a dismissing wave of her hand. “I didn’t know what to do with the alimony and child support, and my daughter suggested helping out good businesses. It turns out divorce can come pretty handy too when you were only forced into the marriage and your husband is a filthy rich asshole.” 

Nayeon feels like her head is going to burst. Yerin’s revelation gets crazier by every sentence. _Yerin, Daughter? Divorce? HUSBAND?!_

Yerin must have perfectly deciphered the confusion on Nayeon’s face as she lets out an uncharacteristic cackle. "Look at your face!"

Nayeon feels the warmth of embarrassment creep up to her cheeks. She turns away briefly to reclaim her last remaining bit of self-preservation. 

"Sorry…" Nayeon draws out a jittery chuckle. "I didn't mean to offend you or make you feel uncomfortable."

"Offend me? Why would I be offended?" Yerin snorts, waving off the issue as if it was just a casual inconvenience. "If anything, that divorce is just a blissful memory to me. A thing of the past. It was inevitable because that marriage was doomed to begin with."

"But you had a daughter? That's the silver lining of it, right?" Frankly, Nayeon never pegged Baek Yerin to settle down with a _guy_ let alone have a child.

"Of course." The smile returns on Yerin's face again. Solemn and warm. Something Nayeon has never seen on the girl in the years they spent with each other (which isn't counting much considering how Nayeon braved high school glaring at Yerin and even going to the lengths of getting her kicked out). 

"I held out for as long as I could because the lawyer said so. In the end, the judge decided he wasn't equipped to be a dad to his own child and I got the better end of the bargain." Yerin says, aloof and not showing the slightest bit of concern with the melodrama. If anything, Nayeon can see a glint of pride in Yerin's eyes and the way the corner of her lips tug at the slightest bit for the smallest second. She feels gratified.

For a second there, Nayeon can see the old Yerin she knew–and hated–back in high school. It doesn't feel as bitter as it used to be now. 

"Your daughter, did she come here with you?" She stirs the topic to lighter ground, to a matter they both have in common now. Motherhood. "There's a good summer school I know around town. Mina and Dahyun own it. That is if your little one is interested in arts and the like. My daughter wants to enroll but she's in Yonsei now. She'll probably join in her winter break if she can."

"Little one?" A dry laugh escapes Yerin's lips. "My little girl is taller than me now. She's the one who dragged me all the way here. We live in Jeju but she wanted to study university in the city and took part-time jobs for some extra cash."

"University? So she's...older than Chaeyoung? My daughter's just about to turn twenty."

"I know. We're celebrating a surprise party for her tonight, right?" Yerin chuckles. "Yes, she is older. You've met her already. She was the one who brought you here."

Nayeon's mind traces back to the familiar warmth she felt earlier. _So that's why it felt like I've seen her face before!_

"Your daughter is Rosie?!" The delightful surprise is evident in the way Nayeon's eyes grow wide, jaw slacking in a big open smile.

"I had her when I was young, in the times when I was still finding out who I really was. Foolish and what not. My parents were too afraid of issues. That's why they took care of her when she was a baby and I was shipped off to study far away in a place I used to refer to as Satan’s lair. Aka here. " Yerin says, contrasting the sullen story with the warm delight in her eyes at the way she talks about her past now. 

She’s moved on from looking back with regrets. Now she only moves forward with a lighter heart. _They both move on with their lives with lighter hearts._

"To be honest, I really had no intention of coming back here." Yerin's voice snaps Nayeon out of her short trance. It's laced with a mellow kind of seriousness that doesn’t last long. A warm smile takes over shortly. 

"But Rosie found out a box of my things at the house and she suddenly enjoyed going through a younger version of me." 

The resemblance is almost uncanny. Nayeon’s heard that story somewhere…

"She said she felt _something_ about this place." Yerin looks around with a fleeting smile, from where she's standing leaning against the desk behind her. There’s nothing much to see and enjoy about the office room when it looks just how Nayeon last remembered it to be–which was around twenty years ago–but Yerin looks at the place as if she was watching her entire childhood flash before her. 

“This diner is like a time machine.” Nayeon utters, unintentionally really. The words had been living on the edge of her tongue rent-free for so long, unsure of the time she'd finally have the guts to come into terms with the enthrallment and _wonder_ the diner often emanates.

There’s a certain feeling the diner holds, from its rather _sketchy_ exterior to its nostalgic inside. Years of memories are etched in the crevices of the wall, the cracks on the ceiling, the tears on the leather booth seats. Even in the office itself, Nayeon can still see a few of the old arcade machines standing by the far corner, covered with a stained white cloth. 

This entire place is one of the last remaining testimonies of the town’s simpler past. A piece of everyone’s youth. Children nowadays have no idea how remarkable this place has been for those the likes of Im Nayeon. 

Deux was the one spot in town everyone had considered cool and hung out at, no matter what kind of group you were from. You were a science nerd geeking out at the release of The Matrix? Annual secret club meetings were held in the booths by the back (which is now a converted toilet room) every Friday night. You were a rowdy jock causing trouble around with your gang of other rowdy jocks? The booths near the door–and almost the entire half of the diner itself–was always jam packed and noisy whenever the boys would celebrate their wins after basketball and soccer matches against the neighboring town. You were a natural 90s kid just trying to escape and rave about nihilism, existence, and life’s mundanities? The diner often had the arcade and back area filled with angsty teenagers and those just in the mood for introspection and rebellion. 

“This place _is_ a time machine.” Yerin affirms, fingers tapping against the edge of the desk while her arms stretch behind her, supporting the weight of her upper body. She stares at the nothingness with a fond smile. “It’s been years since I stepped foot in this town and the first encounter I get after the ownership change, I end up meeting you girls again. Magic, right?”

Nayeon only nods with a small chuckle, unable to muster a worded response with all the thoughts flashing inside of her head. At the back of her mind, she thinks of how everything managed to start and end in this place. Now it feels like an important chapter of her life is about to close and a new, _better_ one is just about to begin. 

It’s hard to say goodbye but Nayeon feels thankful it is how it has become. After the chaos, the heartbreak, the waiting that had lasted nineteen _fucking_ years, Nayeon can finally say she’s lucky enough to have memories that make saying goodbyes so hard. 

All that’s left to do now is welcome a new, brighter chapter of her life with the people she loves the most. 

***

“Unnie! Come on! Hurry up!” Dahyun’s whisper-shouts, feet buzzing with excitement as she hops off Sana and Momo’s Volvo and looks around her, soul basking in the familiarity of the place she stands on—even though technically, they’re still in the parking lot. 

Momo skedaddles beside her, holding up finger guns to her chest. “Is the coast clear?” 

Dahyun responds with a noncommittal hum, still left in her unwavering awe of the bustling Sinchon street they begin walking along. 

There are flocks of people walking about, taking pictures, and just hanging out with their friends. The buildings and restaurants are more alive than ever, glowing in the darkness of the night and the aftermath of the rain, lights bouncing different kinds of colors on the puddles and wet asphalt road.

A lot has changed since Dahyun last visited the place–which was around years ago (probably when she came to pick up her alumni I.D.,a few months after she graduated college)–and what seemed to be a relatively busy street back then had transformed into this miniature Tokyo Shibuya district. Pedestrian lanes are packed with scurrying students out late on a lively night, restaurants, food chains, and shopping boutiques line the streets, filled with people. 

“Tzuyu, look!” Dahyun exclaims to towering girl beside her, standing normally unlike her two mothers who have now managed to pose back-to-back with finger guns held close to their chests, in their very own definition of _stealthy_ espionage when they’re wearing all-black and an oversized beanie on their heads, in this humid night, looking like the better version of the burglars from Home Alone. 

Tzuyu looks around from where they stand waiting for the pedestrian signal to turn green, listening as Dahyun enthuses all about Edae–or Sinchon and Ewha Women’s University’s shopping district–and the youth culture of the early 2000s, back when she was still in college. 

Dahyun cranes her neck to search for the small drink shack that used to sell the _best_ smoothies in the district, only to fail halfway when the pedestrian signal turns green and people start moving forward like a wave that she is unable to withstand. 

Tzuyu holds the older woman’s arm and walks by her closely. The throng of people move about like a strong current, shoving and pushing unintentionally. 

She remembers her aunt Mina’s reminder: _“Don’t let Dahyun out of your sight, please.”_ and finds it almost amusing how she had asked them of it like she was asking them to look out for a child rather than an adult woman. Now Tzuyu perfectly understands why. 

Her aunt Dahyun had, for the most part, the enthusiasm of a child in a toy store. 

It hasn’t even been an entire five minutes since they stepped on Yonsei campus outskirts and Dahyun’s prattling finds no end. She bounces with every step a new kind of glee and excitement whenever something familiar catches her eye. 

In the ten minute walk they go through before entering the Yonsei Sinchon campus, Dahyun has managed to provide Tzuyu a vivid imagery of how the prestigious university looked during her time, in the early 2000s. She raved on all about the old stores she used to rent DVDs from, the CD shop she used to have her disks _burned_ (Tzuyu initially gasped in distraught at the term used, but then Dahyun just tells her it was their old way of saving songs when you’re a broke student who couldn’t afford the expensive album CDs). 

When they finally enter the campus through the north gate, Tzuyu feels like she’s transported to some kind of Harry Potter universe. Dahyun tells her the main building is cooler and Tzuyu’s head can’t wrap itself around the thought of seeing something _better_.

Although the row of brick buildings are as bland as any other normal building, it’s the greenery and the lights that surround the place that takes Tzuyu’s breath away. Even the receiving lobby of Chaeyoung’s dormitory building is warm and welcoming, with its touch of nut wood and whites. 

Compared to KAIST’s campus–which has its own fair share of greenery and breath of nature–Yonsei is a mix of different kinds of architecture all around. Tzuyu can see bricked buildings similar to British houses here, and a towering glass building shimmering by the horizon. 

“You should’ve studied here too, Tzuyu.” Dahyun says. The way she smiles warmly and takes in the familiarity of the place mirrors the lighthearted tone of her voice. “They have a good veterinary studies program here. Although yeah, KAIST is nice too!”

“KAIST is _definitely_ nice. Amazing even! The hardest university to get into!” Momo joins in with a chirp in her voice and a profound pride that Tzuyu knows all too well. 

It’s her mothers’ _that’s our daughter!_ kind of pride, the one both her moms never get tired of, _flexing_ around whenever any sliver of opportunity presents itself. 

At first it felt embarrassing, because as much as Tzuyu loves her mothers with every fiber of her body and soul, being the center of attention for too long is always going to be uncomfortable for someone as reserved as her. Gradually though, about a hundred more times later, she gets used to it and understands the swell of pride in her mothers. 

The Korea Advanced Institute of Science and Technology is one of the most prestigious schools in the country and the acceptance rate is as low as the chances of her mother ever dancing to Mr. Taxi again. Once in a blue moon. 

Momo wraps her arm around Tzuyu’s shoulders, pulling her in for a side-hug before ultimately blowing her cover off with a passionate declaration, “Our baby got accepted in KAIST! With a full scholarship! _IN KAIST!”_

“OUR BABY!” Sana rushes to her other side, arms circling around Tzuyu’s waist. “THIS GIRL! HER!”

It attracts attention, as expected, but Tzuyu ignores the weird glares by focusing on the brighter smiles on her aunt Dahyun and mothers’ faces. The love and appreciation she feels overshadows any kind of discomfort. 

If this makes her moms happy then Tzuyu will gladly oblige. Even if everybody else throws wary looks at them because there’s a student from a rival university walking their grounds. 

(At the back of Tzuyu’s mind lives the reason why. 

Momo told it to her daughter one night, after Tzuyu gathered enough courage to ask about it. 

_“Because your mom and I...we aren’t the smartest people around. To be honest, if someone would rank us and your aunts from smartest to the least, your mom and I would probably be at the bottom, applauding for those at the top.”_

Tzuyu didn’t forget. The glint of sadness in her mother’s eyes that she soon hid away with a laugh. 

_“From the moment we had you, we knew you were going to make us the proudest moms in the world. You weren’t just smart because you could solve math problems faster than others or speak more than three languages before your twelfth birthday. You were also kind, and beautiful inside and out.”_

The gloomy oceans in her mother’s eyes were no longer there, not even a thread lingered around. All Tzuyu could see was the same bright eyes and warm smile her mothers would alway show whenever they talked about anything related to Tzuyu. 

_“Having you is like having all the answers to the universe and more.”)_

There’s a brief second of loveable silence before Sana snaps out of her proud trance. “Okay…” she doesn’t let go of her daughter though, still hugging her tight as she looks at her wife and best friend. “What was the plan again?” 

“OH! YES! THE PLAN!” Dahyun pulls out her phone from the back pocket of her black leather pants. “I wrote it down on my notes. Wait…” 

She fiddles with the device, hiding her phone while she taps in her passcode (everyone knows it’s Mina’s birthday) fumbling for a few more seconds before she eventually opens the Notes app and presents _the plan:_

**GET CHAEYOUNG** **💖**

A beat. 

“That’s it…?”

Dahyun shrugs. “Minari didn’t elaborate but Nayeon unnie did say make it fun.” 

“Make it fun?” Tzuyu frowns, unable to hold down the way wires feel like coiling in the pit of her stomach. Her aunts and her mothers have a... _unique_ definition of the word. 

_They won’t take this too far, right?_ Tzuyu asks herself. Gives her aunt and mothers the benefit of the doubt. An alignment system presents itself in her mind, ranging from lawful good to chaotic, just waiting to be filled up. 

“I have an idea!” Sana chirps, a little too loud that the lady by the front desk is already glaring at them. 

Tzuyu already knows her aunt Dahyun had always been lawful good. Between the three. She just hopes her chaotic good mother doesn’t define _fun_ by her own stretch. 

_Please, please don’t—_

“How about we _kidnap_ Chaeyoung?”

_Oh no._

***

Just like the harmony of the four nations before the hundred year war in The Last Air Bender, Son Chaeyoung’s tranquil–and rather mundane–life remains as it is because of the people who contribute consistency. Her mothers, who never fail to tag her along in their midlife existential crises adventures. Her aunt Jihyo, who is the sole reason as to why Chaeyoung and Nayeon, and _everybody else_ , aren’t locked up in jail yet. And Kang Yerim, who is _always_ the one who stirs the ship of their duo to trouble and mischief. 

Similar to the show _again_ , everything changes when certain events happen. When the natural order of things are disrupted. When the orbit is broken. Like when the fire nation began attacking. 

Often these disruptions come in the form of three indications Chaeyoung considers as omens to something cataclysmic and possibly life threatening. 

The signs of _the end_ are as follows:

  1. Her mother, whenever she wakes up on the wrong side of the bed. These kinds of mornings are spent in silence for the sake of Chaeyoung’s safety. They often happen when both girls’ monthly visits align. Chaeyoung, honest to god, _hates_ that she has to share that _time of the month_ with her godforsaken mother, who uses up an entire pack per one day. It is insufferable.   
  

  2. Her aunt Jihyo, whenever Nayeon–or Chaeyoung and Dahyun, but it’s just mostly Nayeon–does something that makes Jihyo want to rip her hair out. When her aunt’s patience wears down like candle wax melting, all hell breaks loose. She nags to the ends of the world and makes sure _everybody_ gets a piece of it. Chaeyoung is left tiptoeing on the eggshells of the aftermath every single time.   
  

  3. And finally, Kang Yerim. When she _loses_ it. To be frank, it was a moment just waiting to happen, and in hindsight, Chaeyoung really should have known. For someone who proclaims herself _dauntless,_ of course Kang Yerim’s one fear in life are her mothers. Because neither Seulgi nor Irene Kang know their sweet little daughter has the personality of a thug outside the sanctuary of their house. When they find out Yerim is treading troubling waters, she will _definitely_ get an earful from her mothers–mostly just the terrifying Mrs. Irene Kang. The other Mrs. Kang is cool and sweet as a cupcake. 



It takes a toll on Chaeyoung too, when she sees Yerim–her cunning and calculative best friend–on the verge of mental breakdown after being unable to answer her mother’s Facetime request—for the _first time in her entire life._

“WELL WHY DIDN’T YOU ANSWER IT!?” 

Now, they’re shouting at each other’s faces in sheer terror. 

“I WAS PANICKING!” Yerim shouts back, eyes threatening to bulge out of their sockets. “They know we’re at the dorms resting and we don’t exactly look like _we’re at the dorms resting!”_

Chaeyoung feels like her head is about to blow up. Yerim, who’s too busy pacing back and forth in front of her, dragging her feet on the ground as if it ever did her wrong, looks like she’s already fighting for her life inside. 

“Yerim, _breathe_.” It’s futile but Chaeyoung still proceeds. They won’t be able to think of any solution if both their heads are low on air space. “Just, call her again and tell her you forgot your phone or something…” 

“You don’t understand!” Yerim groans in exasperation, arms flailing in wide gestures around her in an attempt to make Chaeyoung _understand._ “It takes one call to set her off! She has these spider senses going on and the last time I couldn’t reply to her text message, because I was in the middle of an exam, she sent an entire police force at school to look for me!”

Chaeyoung _hates_ that she can’t hold down the amused snort she lets out at the memory. “Oh, I remember that…” 

Indeed, the scarier Mrs. Kang sent an entire police search squad to _raid_ the school for Kang Yerim. Safe to say, they found her in the middle of a bloody nose, guessing her way out of Basic Calculus. (Spoiler alert: Yerim failed that exam. She blamed it on the policemen pulling her out of the room and to her worried-sick mother, but everybody else knows it’s because she spent her study hours making bets with the seniors instead)

“I should probably just run away and change my name. They have another child anyways.” Yerim finally deflates, sinking onto the curb with a frustrated sigh. “I swear to god, that baby is Satan’s spawn. Only _I_ see her for her true nature. Both my moms are too blinded by her dumpling cheeks to ever notice anything.” 

A pause ensues.

Chaeyoung blinks. “Are you talking about Yeeun?”

The mere name sends Yerim’s face turning sour. “Ugh. They even had her share my name. _Disgusting_.” 

Chaeyoung finds amusement as her best friend seems to return from her panic-induced meltdown. Just to make sure, she pours fuel into the fire. “But she’s the most adorable little thing in the world, Yeri. You’re just not used to this new freedom your parents are suddenly giving you. It’s been ten minutes since your mom called you but there aren’t any police search squads looking for you now. Not even a follow-up message.” 

_“Freedom?”_ Yerim snorts, rolls her eyes dramatically. She feels her stomach churn distastefully at the bitter reality her best friend had just bitch-slapped her with. “This is called _neglect_. They’re probably removing me from the family registry now and signing Yeeun as their only child. Pfft.” 

In hindsight, Chaeyoung _kind of_ sees where her best friend is coming from. Yerim would _never_ admit to it but she enjoyed the downpour of her mothers’ attention and love for her and _only_ her. Although at times it seemed overbearing, Yerim found joy in being the only _princess_ in her mothers’ lives. This had been her entire life for nineteen years. Until now, that is. 

“You know what, let's just get going. I bet your mom’s calling the national police force right now that's why she hasn't called again yet.” Chaeyoung enthuses in an attempt to cheer up her friend. It works a little. Yerim takes Chaeyoung’s hand when she offers to pull her up from the curb. For the sake of their safety, Chaeyoung drives. Yerim settles for shotgun, sulking as Troye Sivan begins playing.

The entire drive back to their dorms is spent with Yerim ranting about the wickedness of her barely one-year-old baby sister. She decides to tell Chaeyoung about the time dear Yeeun shot her with a nerf gun at the family Christmas dinner.

"Didn't you get her that nerf gun for Christmas?"

"It was _the worst_." Yerim ignores her shamelessly. "I swear, that kid is monstrous. She's like that baby from The Incredibles. Cute on the outside but a monster when the evil supervillain kidnaps her. She looks like the Grinch's lovechild."

Chaeyoung frowns. "Your mother literally used to be Miss Korea...?"

"One time a kid I was babysitting asked me where Yeeun came from and I told him we got her from Aisle 7 in Target. He believed it. Stupid kid." Yerim scoffs. "WE DON'T EVEN HAVE TARGET IN KOREA!"

Chaeyoung can't hold back the laugh that bubbles in her throat. Yerim joins along shortly, before they pass by a toy store with a yellow minion standee by the door and she's suddenly reminded of her _That Evil Thing_ again. 

"You're lucky, Chaeng." Yerim sighs, the exhaustion from ranting finally catching up with her. "You're an only child. My moms think the immediate solution to their midlife crisis is a baby."

Chaeyoung honestly stands in between. She actually feels jealous of Yerim sometimes. She speaks the way she does but her actions never show the same message her words tell.

Her best friend, who claims to _hate_ children, babysits their English professor's toddler for _fun_ . Yerim says it's for extra cash but Chaeyoung found out from Ms. Han's extensive words of praise for her best friend that the little twat isn't even charging a single dime. Whenever they go out to shop and Chaeyoung gets mildly distracted by a store's glass showcase, she turns and sees Yerim pulling silly faces at giggling children passing by. She dares call her baby sister a little grinch when Chaeyoung just _knows_ Yerim's private instagram (@rapg0dkatie) is flooded with adorable pictures of baby Yeeun. It's obviously the reason why she hasn't accepted Chaeyoung's follow request until now. (That, or Yerim's private instagram is actually used for _other things)_

To further prove her point, as if on cue, the next song that plays from Yerim's heavily-prided main playlist _"songs mom wouldn't approve of",_ is an upbeat, bass-boosted version of the ever-joyous Baby Shark.

She immediately skips to Nicki Minaj's Chun-Li and Chaeyoung, for the sake of her best friend's sanity, pretends nothing happened.

***

“I don’t think this is legal, mom…” 

Tzuyu watches in horror as her mother uses her _espionage_ skills and hairpins her way to Chaeyoung’s door. 

“Don’t worry, sweetie.” Momo consoles with a soft pat. “We have good lawyers.” 

Tzuyu doesn’t know what’s worse. The fact that her mothers are doing this without any hesitation whatsoever, or the fact that they _know_ what they’re doing will actually require the reinforcement of their family lawyers. 

(The last time Atty. Kim and Co. had to step in with their family matters, it was after her mothers unlocked all the cages at a bad homeless animals shelter who couldn’t even feed or bathe the poor puppies and kittens under their watch. The mean owners filed a lawsuit. Sana and Momo bought the entire place and provided a new shelter for the stray dogs and cats. The others live with them now. 

It was a sort of win-win situation in the end.)

“Mom, I don’t think that’s going to work. Why don’t we just ask for the receptionist’s help and—" 

“AHA!” Sana exclaims. A click resounds. The knob finally turns. 

Her aunt and mothers squeal in glee. 

Tzuyu stands corrected. 

***

There are gold letter balloons taped on the wall, spelling Chaeyoung’s name. Around it are other smaller figure balloons and birthday banners, variegated in colors and design. In front of the said wall is a long table filled with platters of food, all prepared perfectly for later.

With the others away, Jihyo and Mina are tasked to man the remaining preparations to be done. In reality, it’s just Jihyo who moves around, putting up balloons and scattering another box onto the floor for some _fun_ effects. She doesn’t let Mina move around too much. 

“You know, you should’ve just stayed at home if you were this sick.” Jihyo takes a seat on one of the tables near the wall. 

She’s nagged the quiet woman for endless miles now, but Jihyo just can’t keep herself still. Mina could barely move a muscle with how sick to the stomach she feels and it’s worrying Jihyo’s natural mother instincts. 

Mina and Dahyun had just arrived from their Hawaii trip a few days ago, having stayed there for a few weeks. The place had become the couple’s getaway now, travelling back and forth more recently and staying longer and longer. Unlike the past times they returned, however, Mina never got this sick.

Jihyo thinks the stomach flu doesn’t really come with jetlag. 

“It’s okay, Jihyo.” Mina smiles–forces herself to–even though Jihyo can perfectly see the way the corners of her lips twitch and her brows tug down for a nanosecond. “I wouldn’t miss Chaeyoung’s birthday for the world. You know that.” 

“We could’ve gotten you on a video call or something”, Jihyo snorts, resolute in her dismay. Even Dahyun seemed pretty convinced her wife wasn’t in shape to _party._ It’s just that, oddly, she didn’t feel as worried as Jihyo expected her to be. 

_Is it trouble in paradise or something?_ Jihyo will get to the bottom of it later. 

“Anyways, I can't exactly kick you out now, can I?" She laughs a little, although it comes out frail and dry. She doesn't want Mina to feel bad for coming. She _appreciates_ her for the effort despite the struggle, but Jihyo's never been able to master the ability to perfectly hold back her real feelings. 

"Just...stay put, okay?" Mina hasn't moved a single muscle other than whenever she had to go to the toilet room. Still, Jihyo persists. "Does it still hurt that much?"

Mina doesn't answer. Knowing her, she's probably forcing herself not to because then she wouldn't be able to hold back any grunt of pain or tinge of it in her voice. But then again, she doesn't really need to answer for Jihyo to know. Jihyo knows her girls like the back of her hand. They come naturally to her like general information. Favorites. Names. Likes. Dislikes. 

When Mina only smiles, not fully but enough to look like a sincere one, Jihyo knows. It still hurts.

"Kang Daniel!" It only takes one call for her husband to show up, head appearing from the kitchen window. The reason why he's in the kitchen? Jihyo doesn't even wanna know. 

"Is the first-aid kit still in the car?"

Unfortunately, "Oh? I forgot to put it back after the repair! I'm sorry! It's probably still at the garage."

Jihyo sighs in defeat, running out of options. She can't just sit and watch as her best friend suffers. Daniel offers to run to a nearby pharmacy to buy but Mina quickly shuts down the idea. 

"N-No! That's...that's too much. I'm _really_ okay, Jihyo. I can manage."

The tremble in her voice, however, doesn't convince Jihyo one bit. Mina looks like she's on the verge of tears.

Jihyo’s insides churn at the sight. She just _knows_ there’s something wrong and it’s not _just_ a stomach flu affecting Mina this much. The woman is as strong as a diamond and doesn’t hold back at any trouble. She’s just the same as Nayeon, feisty and tough. It’s just that Mina has a different way of approaching matters. 

_Something’s definitely wrong_ , Jihyo thinks, as she watches from a few tables away Mina burying her face into the crook of her arms, probably to hide another painful grunt. _The last time I saw a stomach flu this worst was when Nayeon tried to hide her—_

_WAIT._

“Mina.” 

Mina looks up from her arms, eyes downcast but her lips still tug a small smile. “Yes?” 

Jihyo walks over to the drinks table near her, displaying a bucket of ice and a chilled bottle of an 1811 Chateau d'Yquem. It’s supposed to be for later’s drinks, for the _adults_ , but Jihyo guesses _this_ is a big exemption. 

She pours a small amount in the champagne flute and heads over to Mina. 

_If this works, holy shit._

“Drink up, Minari.” Jihyo smiles, fighting the urge to just launch herself at Mina and hug the living daylight out of her. “I saw online that white wine can actually help in stomach flu. Something about digestion.” 

_The last time I had to do this, it was with beer and chicken, and Nayeon refused them for the first time._

Mina looks at the glass slid over to her on the table. 

(Jihyo waits with a pounding heart. _Why can’t these girls just tell us straight?!)_

With a bated breath, Jihyo gets her answer.

Mina softly declines. 

(She can’t drink wine anymore.)

***

"I actually want a sister.” 

Chaeyoung doesn’t let her eyes stray away from the road and the bustling street. "But my mothers already have too much on their load and my mom thinks her back hurts too easily for another baby. They always argue about everything else but when the baby talk is brought up, they suddenly have something in common again."

"I mean, they _are_ forty already…" Yerim trails off. "And wait, hold up there. Did you just say your moms _argue? A lot?_ Aren't they like the _perfect couple_?"

Now _that_ gets Chaeyoung glancing shortly at her friend with a frown. "What are you talking about? Of course they argue. They _breathe_ to argue. It's like a past-time by now. The other day I was on Facetime with them and they spent the entire time bickering about who was getting a bigger share of the screen. In the end they sorted it out and just cuddled." 

Yerim laughs when her best friend fakes a gag. As if Chaeyoung didn't enjoy seeing her mothers lovey-dovey…

"That's shocking…everyone in the block thinks your mothers are a fairytale couple.”

“Why the hell would they think that?” Chaeyoung, personally, thinks the term is open to question. As much as her mothers are very much in love with each other, they’re also normal human beings too. 

“Who _wouldn’t?”_ Yerim rebukes. “Everything about their story is a fairytale. High school lovers, promises on sticky notes, separated for _nineteen years_ , and then they found each other again, got married, and defied the universe with their _undying_ love. I think it’s pretty spot-on.” 

“If you put it like that, I’d have to agree. But there’s more to their story than just the good parts.” 

Chaeyoung finds amusement when everybody else talks about her mothers’ relationship timeline as if it was some kind of enemies-to-lovers, heavy-angst, slice-of-life 150k-worded fanfic with a happy ending; however, she can’t help but feel deeply inclined to disagree and make a few corrections. 

Everybody else is _always_ focused on looking at the good parts, finding the _fluff_ , but it’s the sad parts, the _angst_ , that build up the moment. Happiness will never feel the way it does without life's sorrows. Her mothers went through hell and back for the days they live now. 

And besides, everybody else _always_ gets one part wrong. 

"By the way…" A lopsided smirk tugs at the corner of Chaeyoung's lips. "My moms aren't married." _They aren't even in a relationship. At least as far as I know._

"WHAT?!" 

And Chaeyoung _always_ gets the same reaction. 

Yerim looks like she's about to start a war, on the edge of her seat–as far as the seatbelt lets her–holding on to the front ledge and the handle by her door, ready to launch. "THEY AREN'T MARRIED YET?? THEY LOOK MORE MARRIED THAN MY MOMS!"

Chaeyoung wishes she could feel the same intense _betrayal_ –if not more–because she's the one who gets to be the main spectator of her mothers' pseudo-relationship, but one year has passed since the reunion party, a few months since Jeongyeon had decided to trade the NWSL team manager position for a smaller one in the Yonsei women's team, and another few since the three of them fell into this complex arrangement as this unconventional family, and Chaeyoung has gotten used to seeing the two women act like they have been married to each other for fifty years when they aren't even, by title, _girlfriends_ . She even calls Jeongyeon _mom_ now and even _that_ doesn't weird them out. 

"I feel like it's an adult thing that I don't understand." Chaeyoung admits morosely. They've finally arrived in front of their dorm building within the campus, and she's focusedly parking Yerim's car into the slot. 

"Clearly." Yerim grumbles. She looks more defeated than the daughter of the couple herself. "How can you _not_ want to put a label on a relationship?! They aren't even girlfriends or something?"

Chaeyoung shrugs. "Mom says they're too _old_ for girlfriends and dating."

"Then they should just get married!"

"I told them that too but mom's waiting for other mom to propose and other mom is...well...she's _complicated._ And quite slow."

Chaeyoung pulls at the handbrakes and the engine drops to a lull in the background, dying from the grating roar earlier. When she turns to face Yerim, to ask her why they're not getting down yet, Chaeyoung is greeted by an all too familiar thinking face from her best friend.

Yerim's head is tilted slightly to the side, brows pinched together with her lips pursed into a pucker. It's an adorable sight, if only Chaeyoung doesn't know this exact image is the beginning of every foolish idea and self-inflicted trouble Yerim thinks of and gets them tangled in.

_Please don't say anything stupid…_

"You should _birthday wish_ for them to get married."

_Ugh. Stupid it is._

***

The lights are out when Nayeon enters the house. 

The small entryway square is lit up by the streetlights behind, her shadow spilling over the white tiles that are, as _expected_ , rid of any peppering slippers or unceremoniously slipped-off shoes. The recessed lights over Nayeon’s head turn on when she closes the door, further igniting the emptiness of her house. 

It only occurs to Nayeon now, like a big wave engulfing her as she stands by the shallow waters, a lot has changed within a year. 

The house no longer feels as bright and welcoming without Chaeyoung home. 

No longer is Nayeon welcomed with a mess in the living room. Chaeyoung probably doing some kind of _group work_ again when Tzuyu’s not even from the same school and it’s a Sunday night. The dining room would be packed for dinner because Sana and Momo–or in other times, just one from the couple–picks up Tzuyu and stays for the feast which is, on most occasions, just take-outs from Chaeyoung’s favorite restaurants. They would stay for another hour, until Jeongyeon comes home from her training sessions with the Yonsei women’s team or meetings with the managing staff, and they’d bug her to no end until Jeongyeon is forced to kick the couple out of the house and send them off their way. 

On other days, the ones when Chaeyoung _doesn’t_ have group works with Tzuyu–come to think of it, those weren’t even considered _group works_ because it was always just the two of them–the entire house would be bouncing with the force of ten nightclubs because Chaeyoung’s best friend Yerim is around, and somehow, they’ve managed to form a coalition with _Dahyun_ . Dahyun, who is supposed to be Chaeyoung’s _aunt_ , is a member of her daughter’s friend group. Whenever the three–or five, because Rosie and Mina would be around too, the calms to the storm–were together, there would always be too much food, too much noise, and just so much fun. 

Nayeon misses that. 

Now, without Chaeyoung, the house is just empty. There’s not much to do because Nayeon’s almost always never around–working for a start-up law firm is _tough_ –and her roommate thinks living under the same roof constitutes to “crossing the line” and “taking things too fast” even when she alreay stays with them for most of the time. 

Nayeon misses Chaeyoung. Her daughter’s responsible for the courage in her other mother, always pushing the older woman to do things. Yoo Jeongyeon is useless nowadays. Boring and no fun. _No jam._ _Just like in high school._

As much as she wants to make up for the nineteen years she spent _waiting_ and the nineteen years Jeongyeon spent _running_ , this task requires the effort of two. And a happy ending isn’t a one-man job, Yoo Jeongyeon! 

(Sometimes a part of Nayeon wishes things _did_ change in the time they spent apart.

Yes, Jeongyeon _did_ date and met a few people. She reveled in short-lived romances only to realize it’s still Nayeon and it’s been her all along–that part even Nayeon knows and proudly so–but Jeongyeon doesn’t act like she’s had the experience of a realization.

She still tiptoes around intimate things that it’s ultimately left to Nayeon to initiate. She’s the one who’s dated in the nineteen years they’ve been apart, had some _experience_ with the whole romance thing, but she doesn’t like it!

Jeongyeon still acts like the girl Nayeon met when they were in high school. Always suave and _cool_ for others but a _useless dork_ up close.)

In spite of Jeongyeon’s poor performance, Nayeon knows her impatience is to blame as well. She feels like a candle with its wax melting, wick closely burning out. 

As much as she convinces herself to stay youthful at heart, her physical body remains truthful to her time and forty isn’t exactly an age you can hide as easy as thirty. Nowadays, romance and self-fulfillment awfully feel like a game played against time. 

If Nayeon had to–and she _would_ , really; if only Jihyo’s voice isn’t a terrifying warning alarm playing at the back of her head, always telling her, “No. Let her do the first move. For once.”–she would be the one dragging Jeongyeon to a city hall and signing marriage certificates. She wouldn’t even drop down on one knee anymore and propose. She wouldn’t even buy some fancy matching engagement rings and wedding bands. 

Nayeon would tie a string around Jeongyeon’s finger and make her promise a love without boundaries, a love that knows no end, a love that is just theirs. She’d kiss that smug grin on Jeongyeon’s face off and hug her until their hearts dance the same beat, and all Nayeon smells of is Jeongyeon’s ridiculous _old woman_ perfume and Jeongyeon would have Nayeon’s lips tattooed on her cheek ( _and all the other parts of her body but that’s a talk Nayeon wil save for another day)_ and the only time they’ll ever have to let go of each other is when Chaeyoung steps in between and holds their hands for them, embodying that missing piece of the puzzle Nayeon and Jeongyeon never knew they needed this much. 

Nayeon would do all that in a snap. It wouldn’t take a year. It just _sucks_ that her prideful side, the one that _hasn’t_ dated for nineteen years, the one that _didn’t_ even bother with a single _crush_ ever since, rules out most of her rational impatience. 

Now...well, all that’s left to do now is _wait_ and hope she won’t be facing a time where such measures are all that’s left for her to consider. 

_Fucking make your move, Yoo Jeongyeon. I swear to god, I’m going to kill you if you don’t—_

“Oh, you’re back so soon?” 

“AAAH!” Nayeon screams, would’ve fallen on the floor if not for the kitchen counter an arm’s length away, holding her up. “FUCK! You scared the shit out of me!”

She’s still holding on to her pounding chest when she turns around and meets the shit-eating grin on Jeongyeon’s face. Nayeon wants to kiss it off right away. It disappears right before she could even take a step closer. 

“Did you drop by the diner already?” Jeongyeon walks past her and over to the refrigerator where Nayeon had initially planned to go before Jeongyeon decided to rip her heart out of her chest. 

“I did. Everything seems to be prepared.”

It seems to find itself back together, however, when Nayeon’s presented a view of Jeongyeon in all her casual glory, khaki overalls and a white tee underneath. Her hair’s tied up in a half-ponytail with a familiar personalized scrunchie Nayeon remembers accidentally leaving on her bathroom counter earlier this morning. 

Nayeon finds herself staring, smiling at the sight. 

Jeongyeon moves around the house in such smooth motion, it’s as if she’s lived in it her entire life. 

She knows where to get the spoons–inside the drawer beside the refrigerator–where Nayeon’s collection of free delivery napkins are kept–inside an overhead cupboard near the counter–and knows _why_ Nayeon needs one every single time there’s buttercream involved (because it’s never clean and tidy with this woman)

Nayeon’s urge _not_ to marry Jeongyeon then and there crumbles even more. 

When everything’s done, Jeongyeon pulls out the cake from the chiller, the one she spent the entire day making, and presents it to the birthday girl’s mother, placing it on the counter for Nayeon to see.

She pulls the kitchen stool in front of Nayeon, the one that just _had_ to be on the other side of the counter, and plops down on it with another dramatic sigh. “I’m never baking ever again.” 

Nayeon only laughs because that’s all her heart can afford to do for now. She takes her own seat and examines the sugary delicacy before her. It’s round and soft-looking– _too soft_ , Nayeon has the urge to punch her fist right into it just to see–with bits of strawberry pieces circling the edges. Aside from the white frosting spelling out _Happy Birthday_ on the center, it’s _blindingly pink._

“You know Chaeyoung doesn’t like pink, right?” Nayeon cocks a brow. 

“It’s _hot_ pink.”

“Still pink.”

“She likes hot pink.” 

“Since when?”

“Since she told me she likes strawberry jam and this hot pink icing _is_ too much strawberry jam."

Nayeon gives in. She smiles warmly at the dramatic pout on Jeongyeon’s face, unable to hold down the urge to lean over the counter–carefully, so as not to ruin the efforted cake–and kiss it away softly, lingering with so much love. She does exactly that. 

Kissing Yoo Jeongyeon nowadays feels like going back to the basics. Like refreshing her memory of an old lesson she’s remembered with every breath and each passing beat of her heart.

Everything is still as soft and warm as before, filled with love and a lungful of butterflies. Somehow, even with the nineteen years Nayeon had gone by without this kind of intimacy, she still remembers how to do it with Jeongyeon. 

When they part, catching their breaths because they never kiss this long when Chaeyoung’s around (something about scarring their daughter and avoiding that), Jeongyeon is left hanging with her eyes closed, a ghost of smile traced on her lips.

“It’s a beautiful cake, Jeong.” Nayeon smiles her own, letting the pads of her fingers softly tuck the strays of dark brown hair behind Jeongyeon’s ear. “Chaeng’s going to love this gift.” 

It takes a few seconds more before Jeongyeon says a word, climbs down from the high of Nayeon’s kisses. She opens her eyes and looks at Nayeon with a warm, fond smile, all tight-lipped and button chin, and whispers with a breathy sigh, “I have one for you too.” 

“Me?” Nayeon gasps.

It’s a natural reaction by now, the glint of happiness in her eyes at the mention of a _gift_. It’s even bigger now, her gasp even louder, because it’s from Jeongyeon.

Jeongyeon nods, smile not leaving her face. “Come with me.” 

She gets up from the stool and rounds the counter, pulling Nayeon up with her. They walk over to their room. 

“Is it a cake too?”

“Pfft. You wish.”

It’s funny how Nayeon feels like she’s in high school again. Sneaking out of class with Jeongyeon, running down the halls with their hands holding each other, the hall monitor probably writing a thousand detention slips as they escape her reach.

The bedroom is tidy and clean, as expected from a roommate like Yoo Jeongyeon who looked like she had just woken up from a nap when she greeted (see: _scared the shit out of)_ Nayeon earlier. 

(Nayeon will later on find out Jeongyeon _did_ take a nap. Just not in their room but in Chaeyoung’s. She tries to save the situation by clarifying that she only did so because Chaeyoung’s bed was softer and more comfortable, but Nayeon knows the truth is because she just misses their daughter too)

“I was thinking of a good time to give it to you but we’ll all be busy later so I thought it should probably be before we leave.” Jeongyeon says, snapping Nayeon out of her trance. 

Nayeon stands by the doorway, leaning against the threshold as she watches Jeongyeon crouch down by the bed, pulling out something underneath. 

It’s a light purple plain paper bag handed over to Nayeon with a stupidly adorable smile and rose-tinted cheeks.

Nayeon feels scared to open it but she gulps it down with a deep breath. “My birthday is two months away. What’s with the sudden gift?”

“It’s not really _sudden_.” Jeongyeon mumbles. “That thing’s nineteen years overdue.”

Inside is a small black box Nayeon has half the urge to throw because _god damn if this is her way of proposing to me then I’m gonna kill a bitch tonight_.

“You don’t want to open it?” 

Nayeon only realizes then she’s been _glaring_ at a box longer than necessary. 

“O-Oh...uh...sorry.” She picks up the box and sets the paper bag down. “What’s this?” 

“I was supposed to give it to you at the hospital. When Chaeyoung was born.” 

Nayeon’s hand stops halfway through opening the box. She looks up at the woman in front of her, feeling an all-too-familiar pinprick at the back of her eyes and a boulder up the base of her throat. “W-What?” 

Jeongyeon takes a step closer, hands behind her back, a knowing smile on her face. “Just...open it.” 

Nayeon gulps. Time feels like it’s running in slow motion when she finally gets to opening the box, pulling up the lid. 

It’s a thin gold band.

If Nayeon wasn’t so busy crying, she would have definitely killed Jeongyeon then and there.

***

"It's not that easy, Yeri." Chaeyoung sighs, unknowingly finding herself shrinking into the warm luxurious leather of the seat. "And what are you talking about? Wish? I don't think it works that way…?"

And then it hits her, what Yerim is talking about. The wish. _Holy shit._ Also, _tomorrow's my birthday._

Yerim seems to be enjoying Chaeyoung's face transition into five different emotions one after the other, as a smug grin makes its way to her own. "Are you getting me now?"

"Wait, so you _did_ believe me then?"

_(Then_ being some time after they moved to the university dorms and in their first freshmen welcoming party, Chaeyoung, having been done with Yerim’s boastful ass bragging about her month-long vacation in Canada, ends up telling about her own _magical_ experience during the time she was gone.

Of course, Yerim didn’t believe anything despite how oddly detailed Chaeyoung’s narrations were.

In hindsight, Chaeyoung should have known. She _had_ been watching far too many Doctor Who reruns in the common room for Yerim to believe she’s not just making fanfiction shit up. And besides, Yerim _knew_ way before she began bragging, her break was by far _better_ than anybody else’s. Chaeyoung relents for that one time. It’s not every school break you come back expecting a baby sister as some kind of souvenir.)

Just as Chaeyoung is about to be convinced her best friend has decided not to be a complete lil piece of shit for once, Yerim gags–spits at her in the process–and erupts into monstrous laughter, loud enough that the people passing by outside can’t help but look. 

Thankfully the windows are tinted. 

“YA!” In Chaeyoung’s head, she’s already roundhouse kicking Yerim out of the car. In reality, she settles the humiliation with a defeated pout. “You’re mean.” 

“Aww, is the little baby sad now?” Yerim cooes, pinching Chaeyoung’s cheek, much to the latter’s chagrin. 

Chaeyoung bats her hand away. “Shut up.” 

“If it’s any consolation, I _totally_ understand where your moms are coming from.” Yerim opens the door and prepares to step out. “Marriage isn’t the ultimate expression of love and commitment. The marriage rate in Korea is _nothing_ compared to the divorce rate, and commitment isn’t assured by a piece of paper. You remember my _cool_ aunt Wendy?”

Chaeyoung steps out too, after turning the engine off and tossing Yerim the keys. “The one from Canada?”

Yerim nods. They make their way to the building’s entrance after making sure the Ferrari is locked. 

“She used to date my mom–the scary one–and until I was nine, I refused to acknowledge my other mom’s presence and would write my name as Katie Son because I believed aunt Wendy was my _real_ mom. English and all.”

“What—” Chaeyoung stops in her steps.

“My point is,” Yerim continues, walking towards the elevators. _“DON’T_ ignore your other mom’s presence just because you have an aunt who’s cool, rich, _and Canadian_. Love your parents. Even if they once made you push the roundabout at the park the entire time and didn’t let you get on.”

“What the hell—”

“Oh! Also...!” The elevator chimes and the doors slide open just as Yerim suddenly remembers the _real_ context of her message. 

“Back to aunt Wendy; she’s been dating my aunt Sejeong since before I was even born. They’re still together until now, _not married_ and happily living in their Canadian countryside mansion like every cottagecore lesbian dream.” 

Somehow, everytime Chaeyoung asks Yerim for advice, she gets to discover _weirder_ parts of her best friend that assures her more why they’re often the dumb and dumber duo. 

“If you don’t feel like _magic_ birthday wishing for your moms, then just wait for you and Tzuyu to get married and make it a double wedding!” Yerim blurts out, just when Chaeyoung thought she was done.

“Yeri, shut up!” Chaeyoung stomps on expensive Converse sneakers, unable to hold down the warmth that naturally creeps up to her cheeks at the mention of her girlfriend’s name. 

“OW!” Yerim yelps, a little too loud. 

Chaeyoung takes this as her sign to skedaddle out of the elevator first, the moment it opens to their floor, running down the hall away from Yerim who, _oddly_ , doesn’t chase after her. 

Still, Chaeyoung furiously shoves the key in and unlocks the door, pretending a little monster is running closer to her. 

When the door finally caves in and opens–and Chaeyoung suddenly understands now why all those horror movie characters die before they even get inside their houses; it’s hard moving under pressure especially when there’s a fucking monster after you–Chaeyoung stumbles inside the dorm room and nearly falls on her face in the process. 

Before she can even reach for the light switch beside her, a loud bang resonates in the room. 

Chaeyoung feels like her entire life just flashed before her. 

There’s a ruckus and some shoving, and Chaeyoung has never been one to be physically capable of throwing someone off, so when someone _does_ grab at her hands while someone ties a blindfold over her eyes, Chaeyoung does nothing but scream at the top of her lungs and flail whatever limb she is able to flail. 

Her screaming is muffled by a hand that covers her mouth. 

It oddly smells like jasmines. 

Yerim is useless in combat and they take Chaeyoung away without much of a struggle. 

Chaeyoung just hopes Yerim is taken too. At least then being kidnapped and probably shoved into a crackhouse tied up for ransom won’t be as boring. 

This is probably the worst way to celebrate the day before her birthday. 

***

No, it’s not a wedding ring. 

Also not an engagement ring. 

Jeongyeon saves herself by a fraction.

_Kind of._

“It’s a necklace.” She holds it up, three gold bands hanging in the center. Two of the same size and one slightly smaller, placed in between. “That’s you, Chaeyoung, and me. Us together.”

It’s not a wedding ring or an engagement ring.

It’s even better. 

“I love it.” Nayeon’s smile looks like something between a tearful one and a sad pout. Before her tears betray her, she pulls Jeongyeon into a hug, nuzzling her face into the crook of her neck. “It’s so beautiful.”

Jeongyeon must’ve sensed the tears soaking through her shirt because she hugs Nayeon even tighter, pats the back of her head softly, assuringly. “Do you want me to put it on you?” 

Nayeon nods, sniffling when she pulls back. 

“You ass.” Her eyes are a little puffy now and her nose has grown red. “Did you plan to make me cry?!”

Jeongyeon laughs fondly. Her fingertips ghost over Nayeon’s collarbone in a tease as she pulls the necklace around the base of her neck. “Now why would I want to do that?” 

Nayeon huffs bitterly, only because she can’t think of any reason why. 

Jeongyeon locks the necklace in place and presses a soft kiss on the shell of Nayeon's ear. “There you go.”

Nayeon walks over to the mirror in her closet, Jeongyeon trailing behind her. 

When she sees the necklace up close, it feels like a wave of emotions hitting her all at once. All the good kind. Butterflies in her stomach, an overwhelming surge of happiness she never thought was possible. A breath of fresh air. _Everything._

"Those were actually supposed to be literal rings. For us and for Chaeyoung." Jeongyeon stares at the gold bands with a fond smile, lets herself ride through the rollercoaster of her memories. "But I couldn't give it to you back then and I figured your ring sizes must have changed–especially Chaeyoung's–so I made it into a necklace instead." 

Warm, salty waters well up around Nayeon's eyes again. _Damn this woman is really out here making me cry._ "Are you saying I got fat?" 

Jeongyeon's eyes widen at the words, and then when Nayeon's face remains a serious frown, a gasp escapes her lips, "YA! Why would I—Ugh. You're hopeless."

Nayeon laughs. There's another pout on Jeongyeon's face and she has the urge to kiss it away again, but her love for Jeongyeon is just too much to contain, Nayeon thinks kissing her might lead to other endeavors that'll surely make them late for their daughter's birthday surprise.

She results to holding Jeongyeon's face instead, cupped in her hands, pulled ever so teasingly close their foreheads touch. 

This...this is heaven.

"I love you, you son of a bitch." The smile on Jeongyeon's lips breathe out a soft chuckle. 

Nayeon snorts, rolls her eyes. "Your breath smells like strawberry jam." 

"Is that your _I love you too?"_

"No. This is my I love you too."

Nayeon pulls away for a fraction of a second. She stands on her tiptoes and presses a lingering kiss on Jeongyeon's forehead. One thag says a lot without any word.

One on the lips is a kiss that opens a new door to a lot more lips and hands and touches that fuel the fire inside your body.

Jeongyeon always loved forehead kisses. She gave Nayeon more than the ones on her lips. 

For Nayeon it was an argument just waiting to be exchanged, but now…

Now, she understands. 

One on the forehead, Nayeon thinks, is a kiss that closes everything else, a kiss that builds up walls around you and a roof over your head, and gives you a house for shelter and sanctuary for assurance. A kiss on the forehead is a promise without the words or the pinkies. It's a house protecting over you, assuring you of love and a different kind of intimacy. Never fueling the fire but instead, keeping it safe. 

"Come on, we have to get ready." Nayeon breaks away, still smiling to herself. "Jihyo's a second away from killing me because apparently, Mina's sick and we left her all alone."

Jeongyeon takes a deep breath to calm the rush inside of her. "Mina's sick?" 

Nayeon goes through her closet while Jeongyeon takes her seat on the edge of the queen-sized bed. 

"Stomach flu." Nayeon says nonchalantly. "But I doubt."

"You _doubt?"_

"I doubt." Nayeon grabs a simple white sunday dress. "I'm no doctor but she _was_ vomiting when I left..."

"And you doubt that's stomach flu...why?"

The cabinet door is pushed to a close with a thud. Nayeon cocks a brow, defying and complacent. "Earlier I gave her packets of ketchup and hot sauce for the pizza and you know what she did?"

"What?" Jeongyeon doesn't know where this is going but Nayeon's probably going to say something stupid.

"She _refused_ them."

_Okay. I was right._

Jeongyeon frowns, completely lost at what Nayeon wants to imply. "Because she has a stomach flu? Isn't it a bad thing to eat something spicy when you have a stomach flu?"

"IT WAS KETCHUP, BABE!" Nayeon exclaims, exasperated. "She was _vomiting and_ she refused the _one_ thing in the universe that takes up the most space in the list of All The Things Mina Myoui Loves The Most."

"Did you really just remove Dahyun in that—"

"I said _things_ right?"

"Ugh." Jeongyeon groans. "What's your prognosis then, Doctor Im?"

Nayeon rolls her eyes at the term _and_ Jeongyeon's obliviousness. "Vomiting? Suddenly not liking _ketchup_ , her favorite food in the world?" 

"It's a condiment, babe. Not a—"

"I WAS LIKE THAT TOO IN MY FIRST TRIMESTER!"

A beat of silence ensues, envelopes the room in heavy tension.

The gears in Jeongyeon's head haven't been oiled for so long, it takes quite a while for them to move and for her to _finally_ understand.

When she does, it feels like the air has been knocked out of her lungs.

"Are you saying that they're…?"

Nayeon nods. "Totally. And they're hiding it from us."

"But why would they—"

"Dibs on Dahyun slipping first."

"YA! That's unfair!" Jeongyeon whines. "Are we really betting on this? It's an important life milestone and we're calling dibs on who's going to slip about Mina's—"

"You're just saying that because you couldn't call dibs." Nayeon interrupts with a shrug. "Why don't you just bet on Mina? She's already showing too much." 

"Ugh. _Fine."_ Jeongyeon just groans in defeat. The odds of her winning here is as slim as a hair strand. _It's always Dahyun who accidentally ruins the surprise._

***

Tzuyu knew it. 

This idea was chaos in the making. 

For what it’s worth, her mothers and aunt Dahyun seem to be enjoying themselves despite the receptionist threatening to call the police on them (thankfully Dahyun sorts it out by clarifying that it’s just a surprise party; still, Tzuyu can’t help but feel concerned at how easily the staff believed and let them go).

It takes about ten minutes too long for them to haul Chaeyoung and Yerim up to the Volvo. Chaeyoung, as expected, looks calm throughout everything despite the slightest tremble Tzuyu feels whenever she holds her shoulders to guide her.

Tzuyu feels _awful_ for making her girlfriend feel this way, so she disguises her assurance in the soft touches she lets linger on Chaeyoung’s shoulders a little too long. She holds one hand over Chaeyoung’s head when she steps inside the car. The other holds her hand and guids her to her seat. 

Unlike her girlfriend, however, Yerim is _way too loud_. Tzuyu can’t understand the science behind how so much energy can fit such small frame. Even inside the car, Yerim is flailing and moving around, almost hit aunt Dahyun on the nose in the process. 

(In her defense, Dahyun had been _too_ focused on her phone lately, busy talking to someone)

Tzuyu knows one thing’s for sure though. Yerim is doing _great._

Her acting is Oscar-worthy.

***

Chaeyoung can see nothing but total blackness with the blindfold over her eyes. She keeps her silence, gathering the energy for when she has to scream for help later, and remains behaved on her seat just so that the kidnappers don't kill her out of annoyance.

Kang Yerim is doing exactly the opposite of everything.

"I'M WARNING YOU!" Her voice is loud enough to puncture a hole through Chaeyoung's right eardrum. She moves around on her seat, thrashing and flailing, and doesn't stop even when she's reduced to breathless wheezes and a raspy voice. 

"MY MOTHER ONCE KICKED DWAYNE JOHNSON IN THE BALLS BECAUSE HE REFUSED TO GIVE ME AN AUTOGRAPH!"

That, however, Chaeyoung can't overlook. 

She leans closer, to the general direction that's been rattling and moving around for the past five minutes now, assuming it's where Yerim is.

"Did she really?" Chaeyoung whispers, curious _and_ amazed at the same time.

It takes about a second for Yerim to reply, voice normal and unabashed in tone, "Yeah. We spent our first week in LA trying to bail her out."

"Which mom?"

"You _seriously_ think my teddy bear of a mother can punch someone? She cried the entire time on our way to the station."

"Hmm. Good point."

On her left side, by the window, is a soft whispering voice talking to someone else inside the car. Chaeyoung doesn't hear it clearly, because Yerim's still raving about scarier Mrs. Kang's alarming track record of almost-felonies, and there's a sneeze tickling the bridge of Chaeyoung's nose, threatening to erupt at the overwhelming fragrance of flowers in the moving car.

"ACHOO!" 

It succeeds in causing a whiplash of a sneeze.

"Bless you, babe." 

It succeeds in causing that too. 

Whoever abducted them must have skipped Etiquette in Kidnapping 101 because she's too nice and too _soft_ to Chaeyoung, even offering her a handkerchief and calling her _babe._

She reminds Chaeyoung of her own _amazing_ girlfriend back home, who owns a handkerchief of the same soft vanilla smell and calls her the same soft way.

_Hmmm…_

“MY AUNT WORKS CLOSE WITH THE PRIME MINISTER OF CANADA! I SWEAR THEY WILL HUNT. YOU. DOWN.”

“She does?” 

“Shut up, loser. I’m trying to get us out of here.” 

Chaeyoung deflates with a defeated sigh. 

Yerim continues with whatever masterful convincing she’s trying to do–now going on lengths explaining how her mother once trained with the CIA in guerilla warfare and is a black belter in Krav Maga–and Chaeyoung relishes in the soft presence of her kidnapper, stockholm syndrome hitting strong. 

At one point, when Yerim seemed to have grown tired of her own hopeless threatening and the car’s atmosphere loosened up until the only thing that could be heard was the muffled whispers and the white noise of the radio playing in the background, Chaeyoung’s exhaustion from the entire day begins catching up on her, eventually tugging down at her eyelids. It doesn’t help that there’s no view to enjoy or distract herself with; the blindfold is like a thick cloth tied at the back of her head. 

Wherever warehouse they’re heading to, Chaeyoung hopes it’s still a few minutes away. 

Her head is weighing down on her right now and because she can’t help but admit she’s in love with her _kidnapper_ , she leans to her left and calculates everything perfectly, head landing on soft shoulders. 

No one moves. No one flinches. It’s almost like this is as natural as a Pavlovian reflex now, and Chaeyoung’s _kidnapper_ just knows her too well. 

(Chaeyoung realized what’s happening when her kidnapper called her _babe._

She confirms it when she lets her take a nap on her shoulder. 

Chaeyoung loves all of them too much though, so she’ll just play along.)

***

Apparently, their final destination isn’t far enough for a good energy nap and it only takes about another few minutes before Chaeyoung can feel the car stopping, probably pulling up into a parking space. 

Her kind kidnapper wakes her up, with a soft tap on her other shoulder. 

Chaeyoung kindly pulls back, although she has the urge to press a kiss on Tzuyu’s cheek, but it’s fine. She’ll save it for later. 

Somehow, Yerim’s voice is nowhere to be heard. Chaeyoung expected Yerim to last this long but it turns out, her best friend isn’t fit for the illegal life, much to her family’s constant brush-ups with the law. 

“Follow our guide.” Someone finally speaks. Chaeyoung recgonizes it instantly as her Dahyun unnie, poorly disguising her voice with a throaty, lower-pitched version of it. 

Chaeyoung obliges without any hesitation, feeling Tzuyu’s hands on her shoulders again, guiding her down a pebbly pathway. There’s a gentle blow of the cold breeze that tells her they’re probably outside, somewhere that isn’t surrounded by tall skycrapers, enough to let some wind freely move around.

There are a lot of things that come in Chaeyoung’s mind. They can probably be at home. Or aunt Mina and Dahyun unnie’s place. Or aunt Sana and aunt Momo’s. Or even Yerim’s house in the other side of the town. 

Chaeyoung’s exhausted mind is constantly sifting through possibilities, sorting out places and people and reasons why her aunts are pulling off this kidnapping stunt when they could just bring her to wherever they wanted to, in a normal, _not_ troublesome way. 

Her head automatically filters through the many possibilities when a bell chimes over Chaeyoung’s head, another gust of wind–cooler this time, like it’s from an air conditioning unit now–sending a chill down Chaeyoung’s spine. 

Now, there aren’t many places her mothers know well enough to hold some kind of event at. There aren’t much that are relatively significant to them as well. 

Chaeyoung feels cold leather surface come in contact with her idle arm. Probably a seat.

She finally figures it out. 

***

It’s about ten minutes until April 23rd. 

Nayeon makes last minute inspections once Momo sends her a message that they’re less than five minutes away already. 

The strawberry cake is on the table, ready for Nayeon to hold it later. The balloons are taped on the walls as well as the giant figure ones that spell out Chaeyoung’s name and new age. The food table is ready to go, platters of Chaeyoung’s favorites all displayed in a neat row, from pizza to rice cakes and a chocolate fountain pouring somewhere at the dessert corner.

Beside the table of edible goods is a smaller table where the gifts are mounted up and gathered together. 

Nayeon finds out–courtesy of Yerin–that Sana and Momo’s gift is a vintage Leica O-Series camera, bought through an auction all the way from Vienna during one of the many Hirai-Minatozaki family trips. Mina and Dahyun’s is a wooden art set, separate from Dahyun’s _own_ gift which is her old collection of _pogs_ (Nayeon doesn’t bother asking _why_ . She already knows how important it is to the girl). Jihyo and Daniel’s gift remains a short-lived mystery because their present is oddly wrapped from corner to corner, ultimately revealing the very specific shape of the object. It’s _freaking_ guitar.

Nayeon has no idea what Chaeyoung’s friends got her but she knows each and every gift will be deeply appreciated by her daughter. Their presence alone is enough. 

Speaking of presence, everybody gets into their places when the outline of Sana and Momo’s Volvo appears into view by the glass window, doors opening one after the other, more silhouettes showing up. 

One familiar smaller frame hops off, followed by Tzuyu’s more recognizable statuesque built, trailing behind. 

Nayeon hisses at Jeongyeon–who’s _way too busy_ catching up with Yerin by the corner–and curses at her with fiery glares. Jeongyeon seemingly understands as she runs across the room and over to Nayeon, on the other side of the cake. 

“Seems like you enjoyed seeing Yerin again…” Nayeon scoffs, rolling her eyes. 

Jihyo closes the lights before she can even make out any reaction from Jeongyeon. She begins counting down. 

_Three..._

The figures make their way to the door by the side. 

_Two…_

Everyone waits with bated breaths.

_One..._

Jihyo opens the lights.

“SURPRISE!”

***

Chaeyoung knew it was going to happen but it still got her nonetheless. 

The heart-out howling and laughter come first before her irises can even adapt to the lighting. When it does, and the smiles on everyone’s faces don’t fade, Chaeyoung’s emotions hit her first before anything else. 

There, standing before her, are her two mothers. Holding a birthday cake, eyes lit up with the spark of the candle flames, the most beautiful smiles on their faces. 

Chaeyoung feels her tears prick at the back of her eyes. 

The entire diner erupts into a lively Happy Birthday song, everyone singing their hearts out in their own ways. 

Aunt Sana and aunt Momo clap to their own beat of the song with Tzuyu just singing along with her mothers; Aunt Mina sings with a graceful smile, looking away for a fraction of a second when it hits her too, something too powerful her eyes well up on their own; Dahyun is already crying, hiding behind aunt Mina’s shoulder. Aunt Jihyo looks like she’s crying too but the camera she’s recording with is big enough to cover that.

Nayeon and Jeongyeon take their steps over to their daughter, careful not to trip and ruin the moment and the cake. 

Chaeyoung’s tearful smile widens at the sight of her mothers. 

“Happy birthday, kid.” Jeongyeon mumbles, soft and warm, eyes glistening under the spark of the candles, in her own burst of emotions. 

Behind her mothers, everybody else looks on with doting smiles.

The smell of the burning candles is like a rollercoaster that takes Chaeyoung through memories of her entire year and a little later on, her entire life. This very second in time, this single frame, has happened so many times, in more ways than one, throughout the nineteen years of her existence, and yet this... _this exact one moment..._ still feels like _dream_. Too good to be true.

Like heaven on earth. 

“Make a wish.”

Chaeyoung closes her eyes just as another tear trails down her cheeks. She racks her brain for something, for _anything_ , but nothing comes to mind. She opens her eyes, unable to think of a _single_ damn thing to wish for.

Her heart takes in the sight of everyone in the room with her in that one moment. Her aunts Sana and Momo, her aunt Mina and Dahyun unnie, her aunt Jihyo and uncle Daniel, her girlfriend and best friends. 

And then her mothers, smiling before her, waiting for her wish. 

Chaeyoung realizes then and there why her mind can’t think of a single _damn_ thing.

It’s because she has nothing to ask for anymore. 

(They’re all standing there, smiling before her, asking her to make a wish.)

Chaeyoung blows the flickering candles before her. 

Everyone erupts into hoorays and applauses. Another round of chaotic singing ensues, this time it’s Dahyun and Yerim leading the way. 

Amidst the joyous celebration, Chaeyoung settles into the warmth and comfort of her two mothers who pull her into a hug together. 

Nayeon presses a chaste kiss on the crown of her head. “What did you wish for, baby?” 

Chaeyoung just snuggles into Jeongyeon’s space, pulling Nayeon with her. 

“You’re not supposed to know, mom.” 

_I didn’t wish for anything._

Jeongyeon sticks her tongue out at Nayeon. “Yeah, babe. _You’re not supposed to know.”_

Nayeon rolls her eyes. “Whatever, _babe.”_

Her mothers naturally fall into a playful banter about Chaeyoung’s wish. 

Little did they know, there’s nothing to bicker about. 

Chaeyoung looks at everyone in the room, and then over to her two mothers. 

_My wishes have already been granted._

***

(Later on–much, _much_ later on–when there’s food around and karaoke gets involved, Dahyun stands up and grabs everyone’s attention with her champagne glass. 

“Everyone, Minari and I have an announcement to make.”

The entire room stills. Yerim turns down the volume of her Eminem song.

Aunt Mina looks like she’s on the verge of wishing for the ground to swallow her because of her bashfulness. This looks spontaneously planned. A _very_ Dahyun thing to do. 

Dahyun breathes in and then lets go, “I’M FINALLY GETTING A SUPERHERO SIDEKICK!”

_That...is also a very Dahyun thing to say._

No one seems to get it but Chaeyoung sees her mothers and aunt Jihyo roll their eyes, exasperated at the announcement _._ Aunt Mina doesn’t seem to be fazed though. She looks up at Dahyun with very loving, warm eyes, like she’s the universe and the galaxies and everything beautiful and beyond all in one. 

Dahyun doesn’t let the confused crowd pull her enthusiasm down. She holds aunt Mina’s hand and pulls her up to stand with her. 

“EVERYBODY!” Dahyun calls out again. She holds aunt Mina’s hand up gloriously. “IT’S ARRIVING IN NINE MONTHS!”

Everybody gets it then. And they erupt into a wild celebration. Somewhere in between aunt Jihyo, aunt Sana and aunt Momo crying and her mother hugging aunt Mina to death, Yerim nudges Chaeyoung the birthday girl. 

“Would you look at that…” Yerim smirks, unable to hold her own laughter at the chaotic applause and hoorays. She turns to Chaeyoung with a playful smile. “You’re actually going to be an older sister now.”

Chaeyoung nods to that, feeling a surge of happiness for her Dahyun unnie. “I’m gonna have my own _tiny bro_ too.”)

* * *

_thank you for this rollercoaster ride._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have so many things to say :(( first of all, thank u to everyone who red Spirit of 1998. It has been an honor for me to write this and for people to appreciate it means so much huhu sometimes i think i won't ever be able to write something as good as this ever again because of the overwhelming feedback ive gotten :( but nonetheless, i just REALLY want to thank everyone who has spared me their time and red this entire series. it was (heaven and) HELL writing this but your reactions, comments, the tweets under the tag, they all kept me going. 
> 
> #Twicein1998 has come to its end. 
> 
> once again, from the bottom of my heart, thank u so much. 
> 
> really. thank you.

**Author's Note:**

> a new 2yeon fic yay <3


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